The Boy With The Bread
by regpeg12
Summary: The Hunger Games, from Peeta's perspective. He was called a tribute, to fight to the death, with the girl he loves. Find out what the boy with the bread is thinking, I know I have always wondered. (Rated T for violence)
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation.**

Chapter 1

I roll over again and open my eyes. A faint trail of light has

crept in, through the warped yellow-tinted window. I look over and see Adrian, my older brother snoring loudly on his bed (our rooms are joint due to lack of space) and his arm lightly brushes the floor.

I slip out of bed and tip toe across the floor, sliding open the window, which squeaks, I quickly glance at my brother but he is still dead to the world. I slide out on the window and pull myself three feet up onto the decomposing roof and slide to the edge. From this part of the bakery, I can just make out the meadow near the supposedly electrified fence that surrounds our district. I know better, after watched her for almost as long as I can remember. Her humble house peaks out from behind a few others, also nearly in shambles.

Suddenly, my heart flutters a little as I see Katniss scamper out of her house in a leather jacket, and as always, hair set in a single braid. The braid bounces on her back as she runs to the fence, pausing for a moment and then pushing through a whole towards the bottom. The last thing I see is her deep brown leather boot disappearing into the forest. I don't know how long I sit there as I watch the sunrise and it peaks over the mountains in the distance. Forcing the forest to turn a vibrant shade of green.

"Peeta! You need to get off the roof and quit daydreaming. It's Reaping Day!" my mother yells, I can tell she is downstairs in the bakery, probably making some bread, that we won't be able to eat or afford. Most of District 12 is starving, we are still better off than most, but I still wouldn't say we are living in luxury. The more desperate people in the area can put their name into the reaping another time, in order to get tessarae, a small amount of grain and oil, barely enough for one person for a whole year. Luckily, I live in the merchant's area, where I've never had to enter my name to receive that, we scrape by. My name is only in 8 times. The odds are in my favor, compared to some of my classmates who I know are in there at least twenty times. I shudder as I question how many times Katniss had to enter her name.

I slink back in the window and see Adrian's empty bed and put on some 'nice' clothes for the Reaping, apparently we are expected to dress nicely so they can ship us off and force us to fight to death in the Hunger Games. Nobody dares to question it though. You'd be shot on the spot, even though I hear our Peacekeepers are mellow. I walk down the creaky wooden stairs and sit at the table between my two older brothers, Adrian and Ross. For Adrian, this is his last Reaping he will participate in; Ross was done a year ago. When you turn 18, you are no longer entered into the pool of youth in District 12.

"Where were you this morning?" Adrian asks, a sly smile on my face. He knows I go up on the roof almost every morning. I stare down at my food picking at it. I don't feel like eating. I notice Adrian's not eating much either. Ross shovels food into his face; he doesn't have the monster looming behind him. My family isn't that close, I couldn't even name anybody's favorite color, maybe my dads. I think its blue, like the sky, light or dark, he sometimes would sit with me on the roof and point out clouds, or at night, the stars. But that's never when my mom's home.

I gaze at our miniscule clock about the oven that reads 12:32 pm. We are required to be in the town square at 1:00pm. The ceremony begins at 2:00pm I don't know what will happen if anyone doesn't, but I am not sure I wish to find out.

I get in line behind the other boys of the district. I look above the crowd, not sure what I am searching for until I catch a small glimpse of a dark braid hanging down her back. I swallow as I move up in the line, barely noticing when I am pricked and shoved forward. I make my way to the section for other boys my age. Everyone is divided by age. The youngest (12-year-olds) are the furthest from the stage. I don't understand why they make the youngest walk the furthest to the stage. They are already terrified. I spot Katniss, hugging Prim and walking over to the other sixteen year olds. I walk over and stand in the area roped off for sixteen year olds. I look around and spy the family and friends around the outside, who are not of the chosen age. I glare on stage and see the crystal clear bowls filled with strips of paper with names on them. In the boys bowl, there are 8 slips that read Peeta Mellark. I find Katniss and see her doing the same as me, sizing up the girls bowl. I follow her gaze to it, wondering how many times her name is in. 10? 15? More? I erase it from my mind and realize the mayor has gotten out of his seat and is beginning his annual speech. Talking about what Panem used to be, something called North America, and about the war, that the capitol won. Somehow, all this ended up being the place we know today, the Capitol, surrounded by 13 districts, now 12. The Treaty of Treason created this thing they call the Hunger Games. It is supposed to remind the districts of the past. The rules of the games are not too difficult to understand while they are still hard to wrap your mind around. Basically, the capitol is punishing the districts by forcing them to offer up a boy and girl per district (called tributes), so twenty-four in all. They are then put in an arena, something mechanically created by the capitol and then they are forced to fight to the death until only one tribute remains. They are then promised a peaceful life in the Victors Village of their district, where they live in a nice house, with nice food and a nice life. But they are forced to mentor the rest of the tributes from their district until they die. We have had exactly two victors, one of which is dead. So we are left with Haymitch, a repulsive middle-aged drunk who cares about nobody but himself from what I have seen. As the mayor reads our pathetic list of Victors, Haymitch decides to appear. Obviously, he is very drunk. The mayor tries to distract from Haymitch, who is currently hugging a very flustered looking Effie Trinket and introduces her, "And I will now turn the time over to Effie Trinket, our escort."

A pink haired Effie excitedly rushes away from Haymitch to the microphone, almost shouting, in her funny Capitol accent, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" I crane my neck and see Katniss, she is looking somewhere in front of me, I see her smile emptily and look for whatever she is looking at. I spy Gale smiling back at her, also not very convincingly. I should've known it was him. He is a tall and, from what I hear the girls say, a very attractive guy a few years older than us. He hunts with Katniss and I wouldn't be surprised if she loves him like every other girl. My thoughts are interrupted as Effie exclaims, "Ladies first!" She walks over to the glass bowl with girl's names in it and digs her long pink-nailed hand around in the bowl, stirring around the fate of a poor girl. Finally, she pulls out on slip and as she unfolds it, the world slows down and goes dead silent. I hold my breath. She walks back to the podium and reads loudly and clearly the name of somebody who is not Katniss.

"Primrose Everdeen."


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation.**

Chapter 2

I immediately rip my gaze from Effie Trinket and look at Katniss; I know what she is going to do. She seems unable to breath, not processing this information. She tilts a bit but a boy from our year, I think from the Seam clutches her arm, keeping her on her feet. Prim has made her way to the aisle down the center and it slowly walking toward the Justice Building, with small and timid steps. She looks surreal, not quite aware of what is going on.

Suddenly Katniss comes to her senses and shouts, "Prim!" She pushes through the people but they begin parting for her as she rushes to the stage. "Prim!" She pushes Prim behind her in one swift motion as her voice cracks. "I volunteer!" She gasps. "I volunteer as tribute!" My stomach drops as I hear those words utter from her mouth. District 12 has not had a tribute ever from as far back as I know.

Even Effie looks shocked. As soon as she recovers she cheerily speaks in the microphone, "Lovely! But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um…" She trails off awkwardly, not knowing the drill herself.

"What does it matter?" the mayor is gazing at Katniss with a vague look of recognition on his face. Maybe he knows her just barely as the girl his daughter was faintly a friend with, or the girl whose dad died in the mine explosion a few years ago. "What does it matter? Let her come forward."

Prim begins to wail and cry clinging to the back of Katniss, "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"

Katniss doesn't look at her younger sister as she gruffly says, "Prim, let go." I can tell she is just displaying a brave face while she is on the brink of tears. She says it again, with more force, "Let go!"

Gale is suddenly behind her pulling Prim off her back while she panics and thrashes in his arms, fighting to get back to her sister. He whispers something to Katniss and she turns back to the stage and makes her way up, standing next to Effie. "Well, bravo!" exclaims the always happy Effie, "That's the spirit of the games! What is your name?"

Katniss swallows, looking down at her feet. She looks up, "Katniss Everdeen."

Effie immediately replies, oblivious to the hurt and pain in Katniss' eyes, "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come one, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"

Again, there is silence, I join in with everyone as we raise three fingers to their lips and raise them to her. This doesn't happen in our district often, it is outdated but the meaning remains the same. It means respect and admiration and goodbye to somebody you love. Usually it is only used at funerals.

Haymitch chooses this time to intrude slurring out, "Look at her. Look at this one!" He slings his arms around her shoulders, and surprisingly she doesn't shrink away like Effie did. "I like her! Lots of…" He seems at a loss for words for a while, "Spunk! More than you!" He walks towards the edge of the stage, "More than you!" He points directly at the camera, directly at the capitol. Is he insane? At this point Haymitch tumbles off the stage and goes unconscious. During all of this I keep my eyes trained on Katniss, I see a small sputter come out of her and she wipes her eye. Haymitch was the perfect distraction. Someone comes and they take Haymitch away while Effie tries to get us back on track.

"What an exciting day! But more excitement to come. It is time to choose the boy tribute!" Oh right, I almost forgot, I was so worried about Katniss. She does not dig around at all in the bowl as her hand grabs the scrap right on the top, center of the bowl. I hold my breath. She rushes back to the podium and straitens the paper. She speaks clearly and says, "Peeta Mellark."

Time stops and I stare at the bowl. My name was in there eight times, eight out of thousands. Then again, Prim, I am sure was in it less than me, Katniss would never let her put it in more. I try to hide the shock I feel creeping its way onto my face as all the boys around me breathe out. I realize I still haven't. I take a deep breath as I walk towards the stage, slowly, my vision is blurring and all I see is a blob of pink that must be Effie and Katniss looking at me. A look of scared recognition passes over Katniss' face. She remembers it. I'd thought she had forgotten.

A while ago I was baking bread with my mother supervising when I looked outside and beheld the girl I had had a crush on since kindergarten. She looked tired and weak, like she'd given up. My mother had just gone out to yell at her telling her, "Move on! You swine! Do you want me to call the Peacekeepers on you? I am so sick of you little brats from the Seam digging through my trash bin." I wanted my mom to stop; she was just hungry. She had looked like this for the past few months. I gazed into the burning coals that cooked our bread and then glanced at my mother. She was facing the table. Katniss was still out there. I 'accidently' dropped two of the loves into the fire, my mother turned around at the sound of them landing in the coals and shrieked at me. She grabbed the nearest object to her, a rolling pin and beat me across face. The pain was excruciating and made my vision momentarily go black and white spots to jokingly dance along the edges. My mother shoved me out the door and then yelled at me, "Feed it too the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one will buy burned bread!" I sloshed through the puddles of water, now she was only a few feet away. I ripped off the burned bits of bread and threw it into the pig pin, I turned and saw my mother wasn't looking at me, but busy cleaning up my mess, I threw the majority of the two loaves over to Katniss and turned and sprinted though the rain, back inside.

I find myself out of the memory with a jolt; I am back on stage, staring out at the silent crowd, all looking relieved it's not them up here. I am still processing what is going on. Effie asks for volunteers but everyone stays staring. I don't blame Adrian. What Katniss did is not common or expected. At all. The mayor starts talking, repeating his regular speech, but I don't hear any of it, as I look down at my dark, almost black, brown shoes, still in complete shock. As soon as he finishes, he has us to shake hands and we do. I squeeze her hand, hoping I can comfort her, even if just a little bit. But I can sense that it comes across as more of a nervous spasm. We turn back to the crowd and the anthem plays. It is barely sinking in, that this is the last time I will probably ever look out at everyone here.


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation.**

**And thank you to anyone who has followed or anything! Feel free to comment, favorite, or follow!**

Chapter 3

As soon as the anthem is over, they usher us into the Justice Building. They split Katniss and I up, and we are each placed in what I assume are identical rooms where we accept the farewells of our loved ones for the next hour. I don't know who would come here to say goodbye to me.

I am almost slightly surprised when my family walks in. Adrian will not look at me. My mother comes and hugs me, but it is empty. She means nothing by it. "District 12 might finally have a winner." She said into the top of my head. I smile, this is the first kind thing she has ever said to me, but then she continues. "She's a survivor, that one." She looked down at me with a bit of disgust at my smile, "Oh, you didn't think I was talking about you, stupid boy!"

My father pushed his way behind us and held me tight. This hug had meaning, and I sensed it was goodbye. "I believe in you son." He whispered gently in my ear. His eyes looked weary, though he put on a brave face.

Ross and Adrian didn't want to step anywhere near me, both not meeting my eyes. As they turned around to leave, I think I hear one of them mutter something like, "Bye Peeta." They do not expect me to return. My family leaves and I sit alone for the remaining time. Katniss probably has tons of people coming in to see her.

A Peacekeeper comes in to collect me and herds me, with Katniss, into a car. I have only been in 2 cars in my lifetime. I am guessing Katniss hasn't even seen one. There are cameras around the train station and I see Katniss wiping her face of all emotion, appearing almost bored, and I try to copy that look but I can feel it's not as effective as hers. I have been crying and, from what I see on the monitor, I am not hiding it very well, so I just give up and let the tears show. There is no way I will win anyway. Finally they let us onto a train and the cameras leave us alone.

I look at Katniss as we enter the train, and see that it takes her breath away. She looks awed as her gaze falls on the silky curtains, and crystal tables. This is the nicest place I have ever been in, even the Justice building, the nicest place is District 12. I can't even imagine what Katniss thinks of this. They usher each of us to our rooms and I take note that they put us both on almost opposite ends of the train. My room is incredible. There is a big bed in the center and clean, soft carpet all the way around the room, except in the bathroom. I think the showers have hot water. I only ever got cold water, if we wanted warm we would have to heat it ourselves, or pay for it. Before we both enter our rooms Effie makes sure to tell us to "Do anything you want, wear anything you want, everything is at your disposal. Just make sure you are ready for supper in an hour." I look into the drawers and find fine soft clothes, obviously from the capitol. I shower, the first hot watered shower I have even had in my life. It is amazing and warms me to the core, but I think I accidently made the soap rose scented, which is not a very manly smell. I get out and step on a mat that blows air on me, so I am dry within seconds. I note that I still smell strongly of roses. Effie knocks on my door, telling me to come to supper and I hurry and get dressed in a blue shirt and pants.

I sit at the table as Effie and Katniss walk in. She obviously showered and changed as is now wearing a deep green shirt, I can't help but notice how beautiful she looks in it. Effie lowers herself across from me delicately, leaving the only empty seat next to me.

"Where's Haymitch?" Effie questions lightly.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap," I explain.

"Well it's been an exhausting day," says Effie Trinket as they start to serve the food. There are many courses, more than I have ever seen, first some carrot soup, then, salad, mashed potatoes and lamb chops. After that there is still cheese and fruit, and an entire chocolate cake. She warns us to pace ourselves, and that there is more to come every couple minutes, but of course we don't. I have been fed but never this well, and I am positive that Katniss hasn't, being from the Seam. "At least you two have decent manners," explains Effie. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion." I see Katniss' face twist in annoyance at that comment and I smirk as she discards her fork and knife to the side, eating the rest of the meal with her bare hands. Effie stops talking but gives Katniss a condescending look.

I definitely ate too much, much more than my stomach is used to. I see Katniss looking a little sick herself. We all march into another compartment that contains a monstrosity of a television, compared to the small one in my home. We watch the recap of the Reapings. Not many stand out to me beside a very violent looking guy from District 2 and another guy, huge, from District 11. I notice a girl from 11 that catches Katniss' interest. I see why, she reminds me of Prim, except, nobody volunteers for her.

Effie looks a bit flustered after seeing the presentation of our district and mutters something like, "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior."

I can't help but laugh at this comment. "He was drunk. He is drunk every year."

Katniss smiles and adds, "Every day." I smile back at her.

"Yes," hisses Effie. "How odd you two find this amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up you sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death."

As soon as she finishes her speech, Haymitch falls into the room slurring out, "I miss supper?" He then continues by vomiting on the carpet and falling face-first into the puddle.

"So laugh away!" Says Effie Trinket, on the verge of hysteria. With that, she hops up and bounds out of the room, obviously very offended by the repulsive display.


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation. I am going to try and write a bit longer chapters, but it was hard at the beginning because Peeta was not included in a lot of the scenes. Thank you for following or adding to favorites! Feel free to comment.**

Chapter 4

Katniss and I stare, dumbfounded, at Haymitch for a bit before walking over, forcing the smell to permeate my nose, and we raise him from his puddle. We each take an arm and pull him up. He rouses as we lift him.

"I tripped?" Haymitch inquires. "Smells bad." He raises his left hand to his face, smearing it with spirits and vomit. I try to keep my supper down myself.

"Let's get you back to your room," I reply, "Clean you up a bit."

We both work together to haul Haymitch back to his room and rather than laying him on anything nice, we drop him into the tub and turn the shower on. He doesn't even seem aware that the surrounding has changed or that he is now soaked. I see Katniss eyeing him with a very obvious look of disgust and figure I will spare her from cleaning him.

"It's okay, I'll take it from here." She looks grateful as she backs away. I know this is not her first choice of things to do today. She is also too innocent to want to see an old man stripped down and scrub him clean.

"All right." She replies, "I can send one of the Capitol people to help."

"I don't want them." I don't need them. I do not even like to look at them. I want to help him myself, not just force some slave of the Capitol to clean him for me, while I have nothing better to do. She turns around and I assume she heads off to her room.

"You could do better you know." Haymitch startles me and I realize I've been staring at the empty doorway she just left through.

"Sorry, what?" I am hoping it hasn't been obvious. That everyone doesn't know that I have a crush on a girl I am expected to kill in the arena. But apparently it is obvious. Haymitch, who is drunken 90% of the time, noticed. Maybe it is just obvious to him? Maybe he doesn't know what he is talking about?

"Katniss. I see the way you look at her. The way you act kinder, more gentle, around her." It is almost like Haymitch isn't dunk, the way he is talking. I almost forget until I see he has vomited all over his shirt again. I slip it off his head and throw it into the bin in the corner, along with all his other soiled clothes. I am hoping he will not press the subject, and he doesn't. I wash him up, until the smell of alcohol is only faint and help him into pajamas and lay him on top of his bed, covers and all. He is immediately dead to the world.

When I am done, I look at the clock and see it is 9:15. I should get to bed, but I have a feeling that I won't be sleeping tonight. I walk around the train, unsure of where I am going until I find myself, face-to-face with Katniss' door. I raise my hand, about to knock, and then decide against it and return to my compartment. I slide under the covers and stare at the ceiling for what seems like hours until I finally doze off.

"Up, up, up! It's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie hammers on my door with her knuckles and continues walking down the hallway. I get up, forgetting where I am momentarily, and then memories flood there way into my head, overpowering it. The Games. Katniss. The Opening Ceremony tonight. Katniss. I realize I am still in the Capitol clothes I put on yesterday and decide to keep it on, the stylist will have to change me anyway. Opening Ceremonies are tonight. We dress up to represent our district and because District 12 is coalmining, our tributes usually end up in coalmining uniforms or occasionally something memorable, such as the year they were completely nude and covered, head-to-toe in coal dust.

I walk down to the dining compartment to find Haymitch sitting there, enjoying himself with some liquid that smells heavily of spirits. I decide to ignore it and start eating. There is every breakfast I have ever heard of, but I decide to stay with something simple: bread. I peer into my cup and see a creamy looking brown mixture in it. I think it is coffee but when I sniff it and take a sip, it's chocolate, but milkier.

"Hot chocolate." Haymitch explains and I jump a little, not knowing he was coherent. He snorts at me and continues to slurp at the drink it his hands. And I do not think it is hot chocolate. Where are Katniss and Effie?

"So how was bathing me?" Haymitch throws the comment out, like it is not a completely awkward thing to ask and I almost choke on my hot chocolate. I didn't think he would remember. He gazes at me smugly; obviously, my reaction was satisfying. Before I have a chance to reply Effie enters, followed by Katniss. She, like me, is wearing the same clothes from yesterday. I hurriedly try to hide my embarrassment from Haymitch's random outburst.

"Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch waves them both over and Katniss, again, sits next to me. I try not to look to excite over this small achievement. I mean, I don't blame her; the only other empty seat is next to Haymitch. As soon as she sits down, they place an enormous plate of food in front of her. Her eyes widen. The amount of food we get served is going to take some getting used to. She looks skeptically at the mug of the hot chocolate near her plate. I can relate to the feeling of caution.

"They call it hot chocolate," I continue, "It's good." She looks at me and then to the glass. I can tell she doesn't quite trust me. What did I do? She cautiously lifts it to her lips and takes a small sip. Her eyes widen into a happy surprise and I grin as she drains her entire mug in seconds. As soon as she is done I see her eyeing Haymitch, not in a good way.

"So, you're supposed to give us advice," she utters quizzically.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive," says Haymitch. He burst out laughing, like it's some kind of joke. I look at Katniss; neither of us is very amused by his joking. She just looked me directly in the eyes and I remember the day. Her eyes were more sallow and sunken than now, less full of live, though now there is fear. A different fear than before. She knows there is nothing she can do about this one besides fight it head on.

"That's very funny," I glare at him and in the sudden wave of anger, hit the glass out of his hands. He completely disregarded Katniss trying to face her fear, mocking her. It shatters on the floor and the red liquid runs everywhere. "Only not to us."

He looks at the two of us for a moment and I think he isn't going to react, and then he swings his hand back and punches me in the jaw. Pain erupts in my jawbone and I see stars dance along the edges as my chair tips backwards and I fall to the floor. The pain reminds me of the days at home, when my mother would beat me when I did something wrong, when I burnt the bread that day. Katniss uses the knife on the table and stabs it in between two of his fingers as I lean on my elbows, working towards getting up. He stares at us, slightly shocked and amused.

"Well, what's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" Haymitch sounds proud. I stand up and scoop a handful of ice from under the tray of fruit. "No," says Haymitch, stopping me with his tone. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another tribute before you've even made it into the arena."

"That's against the rules." I reply. Won't I get in trouble if they think that?

"Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, you weren't caught, even better," says Haymitch. He looks over at Katniss and continues, "Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?" I happen to know that Katniss prefers a bow and arrow, but I know she is handy with a knife too. My dad bought her squirrels, which she shot in the eye, then skinned. She yanks the knife out of the table and throws it at the wall, lodging it between two panels on the wall. We all look a bit surprised, even Katniss.

"Stand over here. Both of you," says Haymitch, motioning to the center of the room. We both walk over as her circles us, poking at us each a bit, looking at muscles, probably my only redeeming feature. I can't help but feel a bit self-conscious as he stares me up and down, examining my every flaw. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." Katniss doesn't need all the makeup I sense the Capitol people will cake on her.

"All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you," says Haymitch eyeing us. "But you have to do exactly what I say." I am guessing this is the best offer we will get right now so decide to agree.

"Fine," I say.

"So help us," Katniss almost immediately demands, "When we get to the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornucopia for someone -"

Haymitch cuts her off. "One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist." I see a slightly miffed look cross her face before something almost nervous looking before she hides all emotion again. Then I remember that we could end up butt-naked, and I share her fear.

"But –" I try to protest but I am also cut off.

"No buts. Don't resist." With that, he grabs a bottle of who-knows-what and leaves the car. Suddenly it goes black. I assume we are going through the natural mountain barrier between the districts and the Capitol. I see Katniss automatically tighten as we enter the encasing of rock, and resist the urge to comfort her. I don't know why.

Suddenly, light floods into the compartment and we both rush to the window. I almost laugh at the people we see, they have tattoos on strange body parts and exotic colored hair, so bright it makes my head hurt. The building tower over everything, lightly kissing the clouds and making me dizzy. The people, if we can call them that, start to wave and point at Katniss and I excitedly. She backs away, looking disgusted at their happiness. I lift my hand and wave back at them and they respond like children. I catch Katniss staring at me out of the corner of my eye and turn towards her with a smile. "Who knows? One of them may be rich." I turn back to the crowd and grin, seeing Katniss glaring at me and in the back of my mind, wondering why.


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation. I am going to try and write a bit longer chapters, but it was hard at the beginning because Peeta was not included in a lot of the scenes. Thank you for following or adding to favorites! Feel free to comment. Sorry I wasn't able to upload for a few days, I was out of town, and studying for finals!**

Chapter 5

I am laid down on a cool metal platform table that is pricking my back with its coldness. I was immediately stripped of my clothes when I walked in and they pinned me to a table while water washed me. The water and unscented soap are still surrounding my body and wrenching off every grain of dirt it senses.

"These people, they are just so dirty!" One of the little people around me says to another, as if I can't hear them. "It makes our job so much more fun!" He seems almost happy; at least, I think he's a he. It concerns me that I don't know. He has slightly pinker skin and spiked up maroon hair, and I think those are piercings, not eyebrows. There is another young women, with electric red hair that falls in ringlets around her pale moon face and she has very bright yellow lipstick, plastered on her mouth, with shiny midnight blue eyelashes that must be at least six inches long. Do they think this is attractive?

I yelp as they smear a fake scented green paste on my face. The girl looks down at me and explains, "This will keep you from growing any hair here in the arena. Wouldn't want any of you silly kids to grow beards on us, now would we?" Exactly, kids. We are kids. She doesn't seem to expect a reply so I do not offer it, I do not really feel the need due to the fact that she continues to ramble. I catch snippets of what she is saying through her Capitol accent. Something about how having pointed nails is 'all the rave', and that purple is coming into style. Apparently, lipstick, eye shadow, and nail polish are must-haves for anyone who wants to be anyone. I can't help but laugh a little bit at them; they barely act human.

The man looks at my hair and face, somewhat disappointedly. "We could do such great things with that. You could have amazing green hair, it would suit you." I momentarily panic before he continues, "But we are all done. All we were asked to do was clean you and keep your facial hair at bay." I would feel bad for the guy, if it didn't have to do with mutating my body.

They gather up some off their things, turn off the water, and motion for me to stand. I am on a rug, like the one on the train, that immediately dries me and I am handed a thin robe that I put on just as someone walks in. She has very dark black hair that is chopped exactly at jaw line, and so stiff, not one hair is out of place. She has little feathers woven in with her hair and gold and silver eyeliner dancing swirls around her eyes, which are a deep brown and almost have glitter in them.

"You may go." She directs this statement at the little people who were fussing over me. They nod their heads and rush out of the room leaving me with this women. I assume she is the stylist that will be working with me. "My name is Portia." Her vowels are pronounced funny, and her words clipped. "I am your stylist. Would you like some lunch?" She motions me to a table in the corner where I see a feast awaiting us.

"Let's get right to it, opening ceremonies. Cinna, my partner, is Katniss' stylist. We have decided to try something memorable. We must dress you in something that represents your district."

I reply, "So basically we will be a coalminer? Or coal?"

"Closer with the second one…" Portia had a smile creeping on her lips and I get a bit scared. Yep, I am definitely going to be stark naked. "We believe that coalminer is a little overused. So we are going to focus more on the coal aspect."

I frown, trying to figure out what Katniss and I will be. "What does coal do?" She looked at me, waiting for a reply.

"It burns." I say slowly, not sure where this is going.

"Exactly, now, how do you feel about flames?" She grinned widely at me and I must have looked shocked.

After a couple more hours of getting prepped and dressed, I find myself in basically, a black leotard. I adorn all black, leotard with lace-up combat boots. There is also a red and orange cape that matches the headpiece placed on my head. Apparently, Cinna plans to set it on fire just before we ride away on the chariot as a display for everyone to see.

Portia is explaining the procedure, "The fire will not actually burn you, because it is synthetic. You and Katniss will be lit just before entering." She smiles, "You will be the most memorable tributes of District 12, ever. Now, we need to get down there, or we'll be late.

We wander down to the area where opening ceremonies where I see Katniss wearing something identical to me. She looks beautiful. She has the same headpiece and cape and just a little bit of makeup, it lightly shows all of her features just a little bit more defined. Her hair is in its regular braid but it is a little bit fancier, with Capitol details added to it.

Portia and who I assume is Cinna start discussing the fire as they position us on the chariot we will ride. It is black and shiny, pulled by two identical black horses.

I look over at Katniss as she whispers, "What do you think? About the fire?" She is looking at me strait in the eye.

I grit my teeth and say, "I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine."

She nods and replies, "Deal," I wonder if she is serious. "I know we promised Haymitch we'd do exactly what they said, but I don't think he considered this angle." I almost forgot about him. Isn't he supposed to be here?

"Where is Haymitch anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?" I voice.

She replies slightly grimly, "With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame."

Suddenly we are both laughing, with all that is going on, it is ridiculous to take it seriously. The reality of the facts is starting to set in.

The opening music starts and District 1 leaves and is on the road, through the crowd-filled streets, towards the City Capitol. We will follow their course and eventually, every District will arrive. Then, we will be escorted into the Training Center, where we will be kept until the games begin.

District 1 is leaving, covered in silver, with silver tunics and jewels all over them. They supply luxuries to the Capitol, and have always been a crowd favorite. After them, District 2 leaves, followed by the rest leading to 11. Cinna hops onto our chariot, "Here we go then!" He lights me first. I hold my breath, waiting for the burning sensation, but it doesn't come. Katniss does the same, and realizes it, about the same time I did. Both of look wide-eyed at each other as we see the flames dancing around our bodies. He sighs and says, "It works," somewhat relieved. He places his hand under Katniss' chin and looks her in the eye. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you."

As we start to pull away, Cinna shouts something but I am not quite sure I heard him right, over the music.

Katniss looks at me and I realize she looks dazzling, her face is glowing and she looks fierce. "What's he saying?"

"I think he said for us to hold hands," I say as I reach for her hand and clutch it. I feel a tingling sensation where her skin touches mine. She smiles and starts to look a bit paralyzed as she sees us on the big screen. We look incredible. The Capitol people are going crazy. They are screaming our names and Katniss holds my hand a little tighter and starts to waves, and blow kisses. I follow her lead, knowing we will never be forgotten.

We finally make our way to the City Circle and I see Katniss look down at our hands, intertwined. She starts to loosen it, obviously realizing how tight she was clutching me, but I don't want her to let go. "No, don't let go of me," I say. "Please. I might fall out of this thing."

She looks in my eyes and I see the light flickering in her eyes, "Okay." And she tightens her grip again.

President Snow begins speaking as the camera pans around to all the tributes, focusing more and more on 12 the darker it gets. Our flames beg fore everyone's attention as the president finishes his speech. We make one final loop around the Circle before leaving to the same was we came. Just as the doors shut behind us, our prep teams engulf us, raving about how well we did. Cinna and Portia remove our headdresses and extinguish them, with something out of a red canister.

Katniss notices we are still holding hands and spreads apart our fingers and begins to massage her, probably numb, hand.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky there." I laugh a bit as I say this.

"It didn't show," she tells me, "I'm sure no one noticed."

I suddenly blurt out something I meant to just think in my head, "I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often, they suit you." I smile and try not to looks shy and embarrassed.

With that, she gets on her toes, and kissed my cheek, right where the bruise is and I feel warmth spread all the way through me from that spot. I momentarily freeze, unable to think as she turns and walks away, leaving me with Portia and my prep team.


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation. I am going to try and write a bit longer chapters, but it was hard at the beginning because Peeta was not included in a lot of the scenes. Thank you for following or adding to favorites! Feel free to comment, favorite, or follow!**

Chapter 6

The Training Center is where all the tributes will be staying until the Games. Effie ushers us onto an elevator and I see Katniss look around at the walls of pure crystal. I can see all the way down to the bottom floor where the people are shrinking to pinpricks. When we hop onto the elevator, we need only press our districts number and it raises us to our floor. Each set of tributes has an entire floor to themselves and because we are District 12, we the penthouse, floor 12.

Effie is bubbly as usual and ranting on and on about the splash we made at the Ceremony. Apparently she hasn't had any tributes that were quite as memorable. She will be helping us up until the point we enter the arena, where we will be left in the hands of Haymitch. Speaking of Haymitch, where is he? I haven't seen him since this morning when he agreed to help us. So far, the only help I've seen us get was Effie bragging to groups of people and trying to win us sponsors.

"I've been very mysterious, though," she explains. "Because, of course, Haymitch hasn't bothered to tell me your strategies. But I've done my best with what I had to work with. How Katniss sacrificed herself for her sister. How you've both successfully struggled to overcome the barbarism of your district."

Yes, obviously our district is barbaric. We aren't the ones snatching kids from their homes and sending them to fight to the death like the Capitol.

She continued, "Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district. But I said, and this was very clever of me, I said, 'Well, if you put enough pressure on coal, it turns to pearls!'" She beams at us both, obviously very proud at coming up with this. Even though, it is not true. Pearls form in clams and usually by the ocean. We both smile at her and encourage her 'cleverness'.

Unfortunately, I can't seal the sponsor for you. Only Haymitch can do that," says Effie grimly. "But don't worry, I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary." I highly doubt Effie even knows how to obtain a gun, let alone fire one. And then again, how would she get one? I have to admire her confident attitude though.

I start to tune her out as we enter our penthouse. Just the front sitting area is bigger than my home. The whole area is clean and crisp. There is bright, unique decorations everywhere and food piled in bowls all around our quarters. I look and see Katniss in awe, observing the mere size of the place. I don't blame her, her house was even smaller than mine. Effie escorts us both to our rooms in a hallway about the main area; I think it is called a loft or something.

I shower and find this one to be much better than the one on the train. I rub my face and my hair, getting off whatever it was my prep team spread onto me. This shower has many more scents than the train and I am tempted to try them all, but I stick unscented soap this time, to avoid another rose-smelling incident. Then I step out on the carpet that blows warm air on me and dries my hair as I smooth it out. I walk to the closet and set it to my preferences, wearing comfortable clothes and then explore start to explore the penthouse.

Cinna finds me wandering around in the hallways and asks, "Have you been on the roof?" He can tell I haven't and motions for me to follow him. Once we are up there I gasp. I can see almost the entire Capitol from here. "Amazing, isn't it?" I nod and look at him. He is actually pretty normal for somebody from the Capitol. He looks pretty natural besides an earring in his right ear and a bit of gold eyeliner.

"How did you find out about this place?" I ask in wonderment.

"I was wandering around our quarters, like you. I wanted to get my mind off things." I smile, I can definitely relate to this.

"Couldn't a tribute just jump off here and get out of doing the Games?" It was true, we were on the 12th floor and it would be simple to just kill yourself by jumping. He nodded, obviously he'd thought of that too.

"There is a force field that will push you and you'll end up right back where you started. I am guessing tributes have tried in the past, so they had to add new installations." He grimly replied. "They think it would be too much of a hassle to replace you guys. Their repulsive."

An awkward silence follows but then Cinna looks up again, a happy face plastered on. "We should probably get down to supper, or Effie will be furious." I let out a faint laugh.

As we walk into the dining room, I see Portia (still not Haymitch) leaning on a railing looking out over the Capitol and we join her. I hear a door open and close behind us and Effie enters, followed by Katniss. She changed into a green sleeveless shirt, which makes her gray eyes glow. I tear my gaze from her as Effie pulls back a seat and sits, motioning for the four of us to do the same. Katniss sits next to me again and I can't help but smile a bit. Some boys in a white tunics offers Katniss and I wine and we bother accept, somewhat skeptically. I see Katniss try it out of the corner of my eye and her mouth tightens at the tartness. I place my glass down with her and neither of us touches it much the rest of the meal.

Haymitch wanders into the room just as dinner is served and sits down and starts to eat. I realize this is probably the first time I have seen him eat, rather than drink. He's more sober than I've ever seen him. Maybe he does actually plan on helping us. The stylists seem to tame Haymitch and Effie a bit, and neither one shouts the whole meal.

Once again, the meal is excellent and has more food than I'd ever be able to eat. When everyone is done with his or her meals, another girl in a white tunic comes out, carrying a chocolate cake. She places it in the center of the table. It bursts into flame momentarily before going out, leaving the cake uncharred. Katniss looks at it skeptically, and then says, "What makes it burn? Is it alcohol?" She looks up at the girl and a look of recognition crosses her face, "That's the last thing I wa – oh! I know you!" The girl gets a frightened look on her face and widens her eyes, shaking her head at Katniss, signaling no.

"Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" Effie snaps, "The very thought."

Katniss looks confused and asks, "What's an Avox?"

"Someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue so she can't speak," Haymitch explains, "She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her." He seems to be warning her not to push the subject.

Effie is obviously disturbed by the idea and continues her rant, "And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order. Of course, you don't really know her."

Katniss still looks unconvinced. "No, I guess not, I just –" She stammers, confused.

She needs help getting out of this one; I snap my fingers and say, "Delly Cartwright. That's who it is. I kept thinking she looked familiar as well. Then I realized she's a dead ringer for Delly." In reality, she looks nothing like Delly Cartwright. Delly had blonde hair, and is a little bit on the bigger side. Our server is small and thin, with fiery red hair.

Katniss decides to roll with my suggestion and says, "Of course, that's who I was thinking of. It must be the hair."

I continue our act, "Something about they eyes, too." Everyone at the table seems to be buying it and the tension is released.

"Oh, well. If that's all it is," Cinna says, "And yes, the cake has spirits, but the alcohol has burned off. I ordered it specially in honor of your fiery debut."

Everyone finishes eating and we migrate into the living room area, to watch a recap of the Opening Ceremonies. Some of the other Districts had interesting uniforms, but nobody was memorable once we were in view. Even our team is in awe over it.

"Whose idea was the hand holding?" Haymitch inquires.

"Cinna's," Portia answers.

"Just the perfect touch of rebellion," Haymitch nods, "Very nice." It is then that I notice that we are the only pair of tributes holding hands. All the other pairs are not even acknowledging the others existence, while we are presented as friends, even though we will be forced to fight to the death in the future.

As soon as the video is over, Haymitch turns to Katniss and I, sitting next to each other, "Tomorrow morning is the first training session. Meet me before breakfast and I'll tell you exactly how I want you to play it. Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk," He motions us away and we obediently leave.

When we get to her room, I lean against her doorway, not allowing her to enter, without seeming like a stalker, hopefully. I want to ask her about Avox 'Delly Cartwright'. "So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." I see her hesitance and decide to ask, "Have you been on the roof yet?" She shakes her head, no. "Cinna showed me. You can practically see the whole city. The wind's a bit loud, though." I hope she will catch on to my hints.

"Can we just go up?" she asks.

"Sure, come on," I say as I turn and lead her up a flight of stairs that lead to the roof. I am aware of how close she is behind me. I hear her breath catch in her throat as she sees the twinkling lights of the Capitol surrounding our building. I turn and see the lights twinkling in her eyes, making them shine beautifully. We both walk over to the railing and look down at the crowds bustling in the streets, though it is well past the time District 12 was usually asleep.

"I asked Cinna why they let us up her. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump over the side?" I say.

She replies, "What'd he says?"

"You can't," I explain. I reach my hand out into empty space and a zap electrifies my hand and I pull it back quickly. It hurt a bit more than I expected but I try to hide the pain. "Some kind of electric field throws you back on the roof."

"Always worried about our safety," she sarcastically adds. Then she becomes serious, "Do you think they are watching us now?"

I think about it and reply, "Maybe… Come see the garden." She, once again, follows me into the area where they have flowers and trees and bushes growing, trying to make it seem real. Nobody will be able to hear or see us in here.

She holds a small flower in her hand and whispers to me, "We were hunting in the woods one day. Hidden, waiting for game."

I clarify, "You and your dad?"

"No, my friend Gale." She takes a breath and then continues, "Suddenly, all the birds stopped singing at once. Except one. As if it were giving a warning call. And then we saw her. I'm sure it was the same girl. A boy was with her. Their clothes were tatters. They had dark circles under their eyes from no sleep. They were running like their lives depended on it." She pauses and moves to another blossom. "The hovercraft appeared out of nowhere, I mean, one moment the sky was empty and the next, it was there. It didn't make a sound, but they saw it. A net dropped down on the girl and carried her up, fast, so fast like the elevator. They shot some sort of spear through the boy. It was attached to a cable and they hauled him up as well. But I'm certain he was dead. We heard the girl scream once. The boy's name, I think. Then it was gone, the hovercraft. Vanished into thin air. And the birds began to sing again, as if nothing had happened."

"Did they see you?" I inquired.

She looked over at me and replied, " I don't know. We were under a shelf of rock." She looked chilled.

"You're shivering," I say. I take off my jacket and wrap in around her shoulders and she starts to back away, then decides different for some reason and lets me help her. I continue, "They were from here?" I secure a button at her neck, my knuckles brushing the bare skin there, giving me goosebumps. She nods and I drop my hands.

"Where do you suppose they were going?" I ask gently.

"I don't know that," she says, "Or why they would leave here."

I accidently blurt out, "I'd leave here." I look around nervously and continue, quieter, "I'd go home now if they'd let me. But you have to admit, the food's prime."

I drop the flower in my hand and turn to her, "It's getting chilly. We better go in." As we approach the stairs, I decide to start a more innocent conversation. "Your friend Gale. He's the one who took your sister away at the reaping?"

Katniss nods, rubbing her freezing hands together, "Yes. Do you know him?"

Of course I know him, he is her best friend, maybe more. I decide to lie though, "Not really. I hear the girls talk about him a lot. I though he was your cousin or something. You favor each other."

"We're not related." So maybe she does have a thing for her. I try to mask my disappointment.

I nod and continue talking, "Did he come to say good-bye to you?" I assume he did, they are best friends.

"Yes," she observes me carefully before continuing, "So did your father. He brought me cookies." I try to hide my shock at this statement, I knew he liked their mother when they were young, but I was pretty sure that he had only talked to Katniss a few times, when she sold him the squirrels she'd shot.

I raise my eyebrows. "Really? Well, he likes you and your sister. I think he wishes he had a daughter instead of a house full of boys." I feel like I needed to supply an explanation, "He knew your mother when they were kids."

She looks slightly surprised but says, "Oh, yes. She grew up in town." We have arrived at her door and she takes off my jacket and hands it back. "See you in the morning then."

"See you," I say as I take my coat back. I turn and walk down the hallway back to my room. I change into sleepwear and crawl under the covers. I think about my conversation with Katniss. That was the longest we have ever talked. I can still feel my heart beat sounding in my ears. After hours of analyzing the experience, second by second, I drift off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own The Hunger Games, any characters, or any quotes. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and her amazing creation. I am going to try and write a bit longer chapters, but it was hard at the beginning because Peeta was not included in a lot of the scenes. Thank you for following or adding to favorites! Feel free to comment, favorite, or follow!**

Chapter 7

I open my eyes and squint over my covers, spying the white light pressing into my room and flooding the space with a warm morning glow. I don't know what time it is, but I feel like I've only just closed my eyes. I feel exhausted and groggy, slightly confused as to where I was. Then I remembered. Today will be the first training day. I get up and take a shower. Because I am so tired, I accidently push a button that makes me smell somewhat like honey and tea. Better than roses at least. As I walk out of the bathroom, a towel around my waist, I see the Avox girl with red hair hanging up something in my closet. She turns around when she hears the bathroom door slide open. Her eye get wide as she sees me and she quickly rushes out of the room. I wonder what I did to her? Talk to Katniss, who she seems to have a disliking for?

I walk over to the closet and find an outfit that I expect I am supposed to wear to training this morning. There are semi-tight black pants, and black combat boots. It reminds me of the ensemble I wore at Opening Ceremonies. Only, with this, it has a stretchy maroon top with it, a dark number twelve on the sleeve. I force myself into the clothes and find it very easy to move around in.

I wander down the hallway, trying to find my way to the smell of food when I run into Haymitch. I almost forgot we would be strategizing, otherwise Haymitch wouldn't be awake yet. As we walk into the room, I smell every breakfast food imaginable and spy bowls and trays piled with a breakfast feast against one wall. My stomach rumbles and I head towards the table. I bid Katniss good morning and she nods as I fill my plate. I notice that we are wearing matching outfits and that Katniss seemed to notice as well. She doesn't look too happy about it. I grab eggs and sausage, some potato-looking things, and a few rolls and plop myself down at my usual place, next to Katniss. I smile as I see her dipping her roll into her hot chocolate, like I did on the train. She payed attention to me. She looks distracted though, and slightly nervous. We are going to be training with everyone from the districts for the next three days until we will perform our talents individually for the Gamemakers.

When Haymitch has finally finished his seventh platter of food, he pushes it back with a sigh. He pulls out a flask and takes a long drink and then leans toward us. "So, let's get down to business. Training." He looked at us expectantly. "First off, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now."

Katniss asks exactly what I was thinking, "Why would you coach us separately?"

"Say if you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about," Haymitch explained.

Katniss and I exchange a look. She looks skeptical, not knowing I knew she hunted. I say, "I don't have any secret skills. And I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels." She seems surprised that I had actually eaten the meat she traded with my father.

Katniss nods and turns back to Haymitch, "You can coach us together." I nod with her, in agreement.

"All right, so give me some sort of idea of what you can do," Haymitch says.

I think about this and reply, "I can't do anything. Unless you count baking bread."

Haymitch looks humored, "Sorry, I don't. Katniss. I already know you are handy with a knife."

She furrows her eyebrows in a way that makes her nose crinkle in the cutest way. "Not really. But I can hunt, with a bow and arrow."

"And you're good?" asks Haymitch.

She seems to be contemplating this and says, "I'm all right." I can't let her talk herself down like that. She is amazing.

"She's excellent," I say. "My father buys her squirrels. He always comments on how the arrows never pierce the body. She hits every one in the eye. It's the same with the rabbits she sells to the butcher. She can even bring down deer." Katniss stares at, looking surprised that I noticed all of this. Of course, I did.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"What are you doing? If he's going to help you, he has to know what you're capable of. Don't underrate yourself," I retort.

She seems a bit angered by that comment and she snaps, "What about you? I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour. Tell him that. That's not nothing." How did she know that?

I immediately shoot back, "Yes, and I'm sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people. It's not like being able to use a weapon. You know it isn't."

She glares at me and turns again to Haymitch, who looks bemused at our outbursts, "He can wrestle. He cam in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother." I am taken aback at the fact that, this is the second time. And not only did I notice her, she noticed me too.

I get back on track and annoyingly add, "What use it that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?"

She looks angry now, "There's always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I'm dead!" The more she speaks, the louder her voice becomes.

"But you won't! You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows," I almost shout. "You know what my mother said to me when she came to say goodbye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District 12 will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn't mean me, she meant you!"

"Oh, she meant you," she says with a wave of dismissal.

I repeat what my mother said to me, "She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' She is," I spit out. I did not mean to share that with anybody. That was humiliating and it hurt.

This comment draws up Katniss short. She knows I am not lying.

She looks me in the eyes and almost whispers, "But only because someone helped me."

My eye flick down to the roll she is playing with in her hands and I remember the loaves I threw to her. "People will help you in the arena. They'll be tripping over each other to sponsor you."

"No more than you," she replies. Like people will really help me.

I roll my eyes, and get eye contact with a smirking Haymitch, "She has no idea. The effect she can have." I don't look up as I scratch at the table and I can feel Katniss staring at the back of my head. She finally looks away and glares at the roll in her hands.

After we've been doing this for about a minute, Haymitch mentions, "Well, then. Well, well, well. Katniss, there's no guarantee they they'll be bows and arrows in the arena, but during your private session with the Gamemakers, show them what you can do. Until then, stay clear of archery. Are you any good at trapping?"

"I know a few basic snares," I barely hear her mutter.

"That may be significant in terms of food," says Haymitch. He directs his attention over to me, "And Peeta, she's right, never underestimate strength in the arena. Very often, physical power tilts the advantage of a player. In the Training Center, they will have weights, but don't reveal how much you can life in front of the other tributes. The plan's the same for both of you. You go to group training. Spend the time trying to learn something you don't know. Throw a spear. Swing a mace. Learn to tie a decent know. Save showing what you're best at until your private lessons. Are we clear?" Katniss and I nod at him, this is the first real advice we have gotten so I plan to take it to heart.

He continues, "One last thing. In public, I want you by each other's side every minute," There is no way I can be with her that long and not look like an idiot. She'll find out. Both Katniss and I start to object, but Haymitch slams his fist down on the table. "Every minute! It's not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training."

With that, Katniss scoots her chair back with a screech and marches out of the room, purposefully slamming her door shut.

"She's a piece of work. That one." Haymitch chuckles, "Have fun with that in the arena." He scoots back like Katniss did and walks past the liquor table and grabs a bottle of something and leaves to what I assume to be his room, leaving me alone.

I think about what Haymitch said, you will be together every minute. I don't think he realizes how unable we are to do that. Though we act like friends, I can tell she wants nothing to do with me. Maybe I can change that when we're forced to spend every minute together.

I go back to my room and pace back and forth for the next hour or so until I see the clock that reads 9:45 am. I leave the room and meet Effie at the glass elevator. After we have been waiting for Katniss for a few minutes, I can tell Effie is stressing out. I think we are running two minutes late, at the most. But two minutes too late for her.

We all board the elevator and in less than a minute, we are on the floor just below the ground, known as the Training Center. We enter and I notice Katniss and I are the only ones dressed alike and are also the last to arrive, though 10:00 hasn't even arrived yet.

A woman named Atala begins to speak as we enter and two workers pint the number 12 to our backs. She explains that we will be able to go anywhere we want, while there is an expert at each table. Her voice is monotone and robotic, like she has been programmed what to say. Spewing out facts and statistics after every couple sentences. She makes sure to articulate the fact that no tributes may fight each other, they must get a specially trained employee if they wish. There are survival stations, and fighting technique stations. Katniss and I look around, analyzing the other tributes. Almost everyone is bigger than Katniss, and I swallow, trying to forget about that. I am a bit bigger than some of them, discluding those from 1, 2, and 4. They are the districts with the careers. They basically train their entire lives for this moment and then, when they feel like they have a chance at winning, they volunteer. They have the most Victors. Atala has finished talking and I look at Katniss, who is staring off at the careers.

"Where would you like to start?" I say as I nudge her in the ribs.

She jumps and turns toward me, "Suppose we tie some knots." I nod towards the small table, where nobody else is.

"Right you are," I say. We both cross over to the empty station and I see Katniss smile at how happy the trainer is. I am betting that knot tying is not a very popular skill in the Hunger Games. When the trainer sees Katniss is so good at it, he teaches us a slightly harder snare that will hang a human from one foot in the air.

After Katniss and I have both mastered this, we both move over to camouflage. I know I will be good at this one; I decorated all the cakes in the bakery at home. I paint my arms with clay and mud, some wild berries too. I morph my arm in vines and leaves. The trainer seems overjoyed at how well I am doing. I feel like I owe Katniss an explanation and admit, "I do the cakes."

She came back to the present, after staring at my arm and then the boy from 2 who was throwing a spear. "The cakes?" She turns towards me and says, "What cakes?"

"At home," I say, "The iced ones, for the bakery." I see her face lighten a bit, I know her and Prim used to look at the cakes in the window sometimes. And then I see her look slightly sad, then annoyed.

"It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death," she says icily.

I laugh and sarcastically add, "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a gigantic cake –"

She cuts me off and says, "Say we move on."

Over the next three days, Katniss and I wander around station to station, learning some things that could be useful: building shelter, finding water, knife throwing, and starting a fire. During each day we are forced to keep up a conversation at lunch, on Haymitch's orders. One day, I decide to point out what I noticed about the bread. They've included some from every district in each other the baskets. District 4's is tinted green with seaweed and shaped like a fish, they are by the ocean. District 11 has a small roll with seeds on top, obviously, District 11 because they are known for agriculture.

"And there you have it," I scoop up the bread and put it back away.

"You certainly know a lot," Katniss says to me and I beg my cheeks not to burn at the compliment.

"Only about bread," I explain. We sit silently for a moment of two before I say, "Okay, now laugh as if I've said something funny." We both burst into, what I hope is convincing, laughter.

We continue to switch off talking because it wears us out. "All right, I'll keep smiling pleasantly and you talk," I say. There has been an eerie awkwardness since Katniss slammed her door and few nights ago. All interaction seems false now.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was chased by a bear?" She says in a too-animated voice.

I shake my head and say, "No, but it sounds fascinating." She talks while I ask questions and laugh at the perfect places.

On the 2nd day, I point out to Katniss the little girl from 11 who I think has been following us. "I think we have a shadow." She turns and looks at the little girl, standing a bit of a ways off, "I think her name is Rue."

Katniss bites her lip at that piece of knowledge, Rue is a type of flower as well as Primrose. The more I find out about her, the more like Prim she seems.

Every night in our District 12 penthouse, Effie and Haymitch grill us about the day, asking for every detail. I patiently answer all their questions while I can tell Katniss is getting agitated. And annoyed. One night, as I walk Katniss to her room I mutter, "Someone ought to get Haymitch drunk."

She laughs but catches herself. "Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around."

It feels like she just punched me in the gut but I reply, "All right, Katniss." After she says that, I make sure to only talk to her in public.

On the third day of training they call us in by district for our individual training. First male tribute, then the female one. They start with District 1 and move up to District 12. So I will be 2nd to last and Katniss will be last. As the room empties, I slowly become more nervous. Finally they call my name, "Peeta Mellark."

Suddenly Katniss blurts out, "Remember what Haymitch said about being sure to throw the weights." Her eyes widen as if she didn't mean to say it.

I smile and say, "Thanks. I will. You … shoot strait." I quickly turn around and walk into the center. I just made an idiot of myself. Shoot strait? That was all I could think of to say?

I enter into the Training Center and I can already tell, they aren't going to listen, or pay attention, or watch. They never pay attention to District 12 and usually, we have nothing to offer, therefore earning low ratings. I am hoping Katniss or I will change their minds. I am going to have to stick with Haymitch's plan though.

I walk over to the area reserved for weights and pick up a heavy looking black ball, with silver cubes attached to the outside. I lift it with ease, though it must be a least one hundred pounds. I turn towards the table and find only about two looking at me, the rest focused on food or drink, or just asleep in their chairs. I am getting a bit aggravated. I lift the huge weight above my head and throw it as hard as I can in their direction, not high enough to hit their platform they sit on, but hard enough and loud enough to get their attention and wake a few up.

For the next five minutes or so, I continue picking up large things and throwing them around the room, noticing them all falling asleep again, once they realize I am from District 12. Eventually they release me, probably due to boredom. As I am walking out, I hear them call her name. Katniss Everdeen, District 12.


	8. Chapter 8

**Suzanne Collins gets all credit for the book, characters, or any quotes! I wish I could say I own this masterpiece but I don't. I am just telling it from a different perspective, basing it off of her. Thank you to anyone who is following or has added to favorites! I honestly did not expect to have a single one. Thanks again and if you haven't already, feel free to review, favorite, or follow! :)**

Chapter 8

I got back from my turn in the Training Center at least twenty minutes ago and I am lounging on the couch, slurping at some kind of fruity drink. I have a perfect view of the elevator and I have been waiting for Katniss to come up. I am starting to think there is more than one way up here, and I missed her, when she stomps out of the elevator, her cheeks stained with tears. What happened in there? She doesn't even notice me before she sprints up the stairs and slams her door, locking it tight. I soon hear Effie knocking on her door, saying comforting things, asking what's wrong, and eventually begging her to come out. Katniss doesn't even reply. If I hadn't seen her run in, I wouldn't believe she was really in there. Then Haymitch walks by, pounding on the door and asking her what happened. I am tempted to go knock, but I am afraid she'd reject me too. And we are not supposed to 'talk when we're not in public.'

After an hour of this, Effie gently knocks and lets her know that dinner is almost ready, and we are all a bit surprised when she comes out. She has a red blotchy face, but I pretend not to notice as I motion for her to sit next to me. The stylists, Effie, and Haymitch all happily chat about the weather, about their favorite activities, about fashion. Katniss is the elephant in the corner that nobody wants to talk about. She finally raises her head and gets eye contact with me. I raise a questioning eyebrow but she just shakes her head, looking back down.

We go through the majority of the meal this way, until they are serving the main course and Haymitch breaks the ice, "Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?"

How could he be so rude? I know she doesn't want to talk about it so I jump in, " I don't know that it matters. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go." Katniss looks a bit relieved to hear it was not just herself who experienced it and I smile, knowing I may have made her happier. Even if just barely.

Haymitch ignores what I say and focuses on Katniss again, "And you, sweetheart?" For some reason, this bothers me, even though I know he doesn't mean it romantically. At all.

Katniss looks annoyed too, and for the first time the entire meal, she looks him in the eyes and speaks, saying, " I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers." Everyone stops, mid-bite and stares. Even me.

Effie recovers first, sort of… "You what?" She looks absolutely horrified.

Katniss speaks more clearly this time, "I shot an arrow at them. Not exactly at them. In their direction. It's just like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just… I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!"

Effie is still staring so Cinna asks, "And what did they say?"

At this point, Katniss looks embarrassed, "Nothing. Or I don't know. I walked out after that."

Effie gasps, she looks like she might pass out. "Without being dismissed?" Katniss looks a bit nervous at this reaction.

"I dismissed myself," Katniss says. I try to laugh at the utter horror passing over her Capitol face. In Effie's one track mind, Katniss had no manners.

Haymitch finally shakes his head and starts to butter a roll, "Well that's that."

She looks a bit relieved. "Do you think they'll arrest me?"

"Doubt it. Be a pain to replace you at this stage," says Haymitch. I wonder if they've had to replace a tribute before and I wonder if so, why?

She still looks a bit stressed and continues, "What about my family? Will they punish them?"

"Don't think so. Wouldn't make much sense," Haymitch says, Katniss breathes out, "See they'd have to reveal what happened in the Training Center for it to have ant worthwhile effect on the population. People would need to know what you did. But they can't since it's a secret, so it'd be a waste of effort," he trudges on, "More likely they'll make your life hell in the arena."

I smile at that, "Well, they've already promised to do that to us any way." Katniss suppresses a smile as well.

"Very true," says Haymitch. They already plan on killing us, what could be worse? Haymitch is dipping his meat in his wine with his fingers and Effie looks on with disgust. He begin to chuckle, "What were their faces like?"

I see a grin creeping onto her face as she retells the story, including their reactions, "Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them." Her eyes light up as she remembers, "One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch." Everyone laughs except Effie, who looks disgruntled at the thought, though slightly amused.

Effie finally speaks, "Well, it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District 12 is no excuse to ignore you." That is the closest thing to a compliment that we have received from her, "I'm sorry, but that's what I think." Why would she feel the need to apologize for complimenting us?

Katniss frowns, "I'll get a very bad score."

Portia chimes in for the first time, this entire discussion, "Score only matter is they're good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know, you could be hiding you talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy."

I laugh at this and hope people will think that of me, "I hope that's how people interpret the four I'll probably get. If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards. One almost landed on my foot." I am downsizing what I did a bit, hoping to make Katniss feel better.

Katniss shows a smile to me and dives into her untouched meal, eating for the second time today. As she finishes, Effie guides us to the gigantic television room and we wait for the scores. As usual, the Careers get between eights and tens. Rue surprises me with a seven and obviously Katniss too. She looks a bit relieved by it, she has a skill.

Our district is last. I hold my breath as they say my name, "Peeta Mellark, with a score of eight." I breathe out and everyone smiles at me and says good job. Then we focus on the screen, waiting for Katniss.

"Katniss Everdeen. With a score of…" I see Katniss clench her hand on the fabric of the chair, "… eleven!" Effie squeals and jumps up a bit. Everyone pats her on the back and I am tempted to hug her but I decide against it. I go for a handshake instead.

She looks in shock, "There must be a mistake. How… how could this happen?"

"Guess they liked you temper," Haymitch chortles, "They've got a show to put on. They need some player with some heat."

Cinna does exactly what I wish I could do and hugs Katniss tightly saying, "Katniss, the girl who was on fire. Oh, wait until you see your interview dress."

"More flames?" she inquires.

He smiles back and says, "Of a sort."

I walk over and congratulate her and she awkwardly returns the compliment and I quickly leave, aware that she is behind me, rushing to her room as well. The Games are becoming more of a reality every day. Katniss was coming closer to a chance of death every day. I am going to do everything I can to let her live, even though that means sacrificing my own. If I can find a way to talk to Haymitch alone, he could help me form a strategy. I am going to have to ask for something I really don't even want.

"It's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie cheerily shouts through my door, like she has every morning for the past several mornings.

I get up, deciding not to shower because my prep team will dowse me with liquids and gels anyway. I walk down the stairs thinking aabout what I am about to do.

I enter the dining room and find Haymitch sitting alone, I slouch down next to him and he catches onto my mood. "Well, well. Look who's up early," he looks at me sideways and I look down.

"I think I want to be-" Effie enters the room announcing that Katniss will be down in a bit, that she is showering. She sees our serious faces and joins in. Though when she joins, she seriousness of this conversation is dialed down.

I look at her and sigh, I finish my sentence, "I think I want to be trained alone from now on, I have a plan, that just needs some work." Effie nods and Haymitch eyes me suspiciously, questioning my motive. I am almost positive that he knows I love her. Just then, Katniss enters the room and we all spread apart, I didn't even realize we had crowded together. I don't think she noticed our huddle, but maybe.

She serves herself and sits next to Effie, who is in my usual seat. I look down into my lap. I can see her looking between the three of us, knowing something is going on. "So, what's going on? You're coaching us on interviews today, right?"

"That's right, says Haymitch.

"You don't have to wait until I'm done. I can listen and eat at the same time," she grumbles out, placing a piece of lamb on her tongue and chewing.

Here is goes, and I still haven't looked up yet. "Well, there's been a change of plans. About our current approach." Haymitch explains.

Katniss seem clueless as she asks, "What's that?" I feel my pulse quicken, I don't want her to feel hurt. It has nothing to do with her.

Finally, Haymitch shrugs an clarifies, "Peeta has asked to be coached separately.


	9. Chapter 9

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins! I am using original quotes from the story but all description is mine! Thank you to anyone who has reviewed, added to favorites, or followed! If you haven't! Please do so! I would love for you to review! I can improve my writing that way! Also, Finals week is over so I am going to try to get a lot done over winter break and hopefully my updates will be longer, and more detailed. Thank you for reading!**

Chapter 9

Katniss freezes. The silent drops down on us like a solid lead blanket. I swear we could hear a pin drop. I glance up at her deep gray eyes and find she is avoiding my gaze now too. I have betrayed the small thread of trust I had acquired with her. A look of hurt crosses her face that makes my heart wrench. I am trying to help her, if she only knew. I am doing this for her. Everything I do is for her.

She finally recovers and replies, "Good, so what's the schedule?" I can still see the pain in the back of her eyes. She looks confused, whether to be glad or sad.

Neither one of them will look at me. I know I have hurt Katniss but what about Haymitch? I have done nothing to him and he knows my motivations, "You'll each have four hours with Effie for presentation and four with me for content," says Haymitch, I start to wonder who chose that Haymitch tells us to talk about. He is always so intoxicated, I don't think he would know a single thing about public speaking. "You start with Effie, Katniss." Katniss looks humored by the fact that Effie is going to have to teach her mannerisms for the next four hours. Effie claps excitedly and as soon as Katniss finishes eating, swoops down on her and steals her to her room.

Haymitch doesn't waste a beat, "What was that plan you were hinting at earlier?" Now that he brings it up again, I get a little embarrassed. How could I help her?

"Well, do you remember that thing you inferred about Katniss? A few nights ago?" I say this without looking up at him and pretend to be thoroughly interested in my napkin that I'm weaving through my fingers.

"Yeah, yeah, you are in love with her right?" I jump a little at how bluntly he puts it, no beating around the bush. "What does this have to do with her?"

"I want to help her and I don't care what it takes, she has to live." I look up at him and he is staring at me, slightly sadly but admirably.

"I'm afraid there isn't much you can do, she is not exactly the most joyous and sociable tribute I have met," he laughs at himself, "There is only so far you can carry her before she has to rely on herself. But I think we could do some things. For starters, you can talk her up, you seem good at this already." I nod eagerly as he continues.

We come up with a plan for my interview. He thinks he can do something with the fact that I am a baker's son. He thinks there might be fate in why I was chosen because of Katniss. We continue this for a couple hours and then Haymitch decides I need no more help and we head to the dining room.

I didn't realize just how hungry I was and I start to grab some meat, salad, and rolls, of course, and I sit at the table, at my normal spot. Just as I chew my first bite of meat, which floods my mouth with juices of amazing flavor, Katniss and Effie walk in. I smile at her but she looks grumpily past me and massages her cheek and I think I see her walking with a limp. I wonder what Effie made her do, and I hope I can avoid it.

Katniss doesn't look at me as she slouches in her chair, much to the distaste of Effie. Haymitch is eyeing the two of us again and I beg my cheeks not to burn. The meal is silent aside from the occasional comment from Effie about the way Katniss is sitting, or eating, or breathing. Maybe not the latter one but it seems like it. Who knew there was so much that went into how one presents oneself?

When Haymitch finishes eating, he drags Katniss over to the sitting room. The last thing I see is Haymitch staring at her with a bit of a disappointed frown on his face. Effie continues to chatter about miscellaneous details as I finish my meal.

"Now, you are not going to need as much work as Katniss, she hasn't walked in heels a day in her life," rambles Effie, "I need to make sure you can walk nicely, sit nicely, talk nicely, and, above all, smile nicely." I smirk as I remember how irritable Katniss looked this morning after her session with Effie. Now I see why. It must've been a challenge for her. "Now let me see you walk a bit."

I get out of my chair and self-consciously walk across the room and turn around, coming back. Effie eyes me up and down, a little smile playing at her lips. It was obviously more relieving than watching Katniss. "Now come and sit, and make sure that you won't wrinkle you pants," Effie happily trills. "You need no help with smiling, you have beautiful teeth!"

I am no quite sure how to respond to this but I reply questioningly, "Thanks?" She doesn't seem to notice my response and continues talking and for the next hour she spends time poking and prodding and complimenting.

Finally she sits down contently, crossing her legs in front of her, "You are finished. A masterpiece. Now, don't tell Katniss, but you are a natural. You may have the next three hours to yourself." With that, she hops up and semi-waddles out of the room in her seemingly seven inch high-heeled boots.

I decide to look out the huge windows and I see the Capitol. When we arrived it seemed surreal and beautiful and magic. Now I can't help but think it's pathetic. The Capitol changes people, forms them to a mold that won't stir up trouble. They need absolute control and if anything or anyone questions their power, they are disposable.

Panem was once divided into 13 districts. District 13 mined graphite, though I heard a rumor that they created nuclear weapons as well. Apparently the district was starting to question authority and this made the Capitol less than happy. They abolished them with bombs and the entire area was demolished. They sometimes showed footage of the ever-smoldering ruins in front of the Justice Building on television. They like to remind the districts they own the power, this is why the Hunger Games exist.

I decide to go see if Katniss and Haymitch are still working, maybe I could explain something to her about why I chose this. I press my ear to the door that leads to the sitting room and listen in to the conversation.

"I'm not good at lying," Katniss is practically yelling and I jerk my ear from the door. They obviously aren't having much luck finding an aspect to focus on.

"Well, you better learn fast," snarls Haymitch, "You've got about as much charm as a dead slug." I am almost tempted to walk in and argue that point. She obviously has some charm, considering I have liked her since the first day of kindergarten.

It is quiet a moment and Haymitch speaks again, calmer, "Here's an idea. Try acting humble." I could see this work but as I listen a bit more, I can tell Haymitch has given up and is slowly becoming more and more drunk. Katniss is getting helpless.

I go back and sit at the dining room table, thinking, staring into space when I hear the door open and Haymitch's voice flood out, "I give up, sweetheart. Just answer the questions and try not to let the audience see how openly you despise them." Katniss storms out of the room and I try to scoot my chair back so I can get up and talk to her, but she is already in her room and I hear the lock click shut.

I wander back into my room and lay down. Before I know it, I am asleep. Suddenly, I jerk awake at the sound of shattering glass. It sounds like it hit my wall. I creep closer and listen. I hear a cry out as another crash sounds. Katniss. I step out of my room and go to find Effie, or at least Haymitch; I know she won't want to talk to me. I run into the red-haired Avox and I explain the situation to her.

"Do you think you could go in there and make sure she's okay? Help her? I don't want her to get into any trouble." The girl nods, understandingly, and rushes to her room. And I follow, only going to my room.

As I enter my room I hear Katniss shout, "Just leave it! Just leave it alone!" Her voice cracks and I hear a quick sob escape her mouth. I hope I made the correct choice, retrieving the Avox. Slowly, I can hear her getting quieter and then a door close. She has put Katniss to sleep. I finally feel calm and order myself some simple bread with meat on it and eat it before changing and crawling into bed. The silk sheets cool my skin and I fall asleep.

When I am aroused I find that it is almost 10:00 am. The interviews are at 1:00 so I am surprised I was allowed to sleep in so late. I shower and due to being over rested, I accidently hit the rose smelling soap again. As step out, I hear Katniss' prep team bubbling about something as she laughs at them. Her laugh is rare and always makes something inside me stir; I can't help but feel happy. It sounds like she has been up far longer than me. As if on cue, my team bursts into the room and gets to work. They style my hair, smoothed back, the same way it was at the Reaping. It seems like such a long time ago but, in reality, it was less than a week ago. They clean my face and put some powder on it. They explain that they have been told not to put too much makeup on me. It concerns me that they said, 'too much'. They smooth my face with more liquids and powders. But when I look in the mirror I see no difference, though they insist it made all the difference. Portia enters my room carrying something in a white bag on a hanger. She hands me first a red button-up shirt, and then a black jacket and pants, with matching shoes. The shoes have little metallic gold studs and red, orange, and yellow gems on them acting as flames. The coat has a flaming pattern on the top of my back, and the cuffs include gems rather than stitching. I am positive that what I am wearing for one day, could feed at least ten families in my district for at least a month. Probably more. I feel the sinking feeling in my stomach again, at how easy life is for them here while at home people struggle to live. After a few more minutes of Portia's hands fluttering over me, I thank her and we walk out to meet the rest of District 12 workers by the elevators.

When Katniss arrives I catch my breath. She looks striking, but more electrifying. Beautiful, but more so. I realize I am staring and try to recover. She has a gown on that is black and white, with accents on the bottom flowing towards the top. When she walks, the flames dance and ripple, giving the allusion that they are alive. Her skin glows and sparkles with a golden shine. Her features are the same, but amplified. I see her sizing me up, and notice though we are coordinated, luckily, we are not matching exactly. I am barely able to tear my eyes off of her as we enter the elevator.

When the doors open, we enter the stage where we will be interviewed. I can spy the other tributes shooting us daggers. Especially to Katniss who has received multiple envious looks. I don't blame them, she's stunning. We start towards the stage, where all tributes will sit in an arch until it is their turn. Haymitch sneaks up behind us and whispers, "Remember, you're still a happy pair. So act like it." I nod and I see Katniss look confused. I assume she thinks we dropped that act when I asked to be trained alone. She doesn't know what she is in for tonight. And I am not sure I am ready myself.

As we step on stage I hear Katniss catch her breath behind me, I am tempted to grab her hand but then I remember that she's doesn't want to talk to me, to acknowledge me. She looks relieved as she lowers herself into her steady seat. I sit to the left of her, on the end.

Suddenly, music blares and Caesar Flickerman enters the stage, laughing, grinning, and blowing kisses to his adoring crowd. I calm a bit at seeing him, he has done the interviews for as long as anyone remembers, and he always makes the tributes look and sound good. Though, he is a bit scary. He has not changed at all, his face, his height, the age he looks. The only that has changed is his hair, every year, which is currently a powder blue which matches his eyelids, eyebrows, and lips. He talks to the audience, telling jokes, and warming up the audience in anticipation.

Up first is a girl from District 1. It is hard to focus with her see-through golden gown that leaves little to be imagined. I am betting many of the other male tributes are drooling over her but I can't help keep glancing at Katniss. She looks ten times better than this girl, with the typical flowing blonde hair. I prefer dark and up, in a braid. After the limit of three minutes per tribute, the next tribute steps up. Caesar makes everyone look good by smiling and reacting perfectly, even when there is nothing to respond to.

I can see Katniss fidgeting and wiping her hands on her dress. The district fly by, there are different angles for each, a strong boy, ready to kill. To a sly red-haired one who is mysterious. Then it is District 11. I see Katniss relax as the crowd awes over Rue's whimsical dress. She is timid and shy but Caesar says everything perfect and makes her visibly relax a bit. Caesar comment on her scoring a 7 in training and she grins and says, in a trembling voice. "I'm very hard to catch," she takes a breath, almost hesitant to continue, "And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out."

Caesar smiles at Rue, "I wouldn't in a million years."

Up next goes the massive boy from 11, if you can call him a boy. He is past six feet tall and is stern and quiet. I am tuning out the interview as my heartbeat picks up. Soon enough, they call Katniss.

She rises from her seat and a ghost of her drifts toward Caesar. They shake hands and as they lower themselves down, Caesar asks, "So, Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District 12. What's impressed you the most?" She hasn't heard him, I think, and is staring off into the crowd.

Suddenly, her eyes lock on something and she croaks out, "The lamb stew." Caesar Flickerman joins in the audience with laughter.

"The one with dried plums?" he clarifies. She nods. "Oh, I eat it by the bucketful." He looks at the crowd and shows mock-horror, hand on his belly, "It doesn't show, does it?" They all scream and shout compliments towards the stage.

He scoots forward on his seat, "Now, Katniss, when you came out in the Opening Ceremonies, my heart actually stopped. What did you think of that costume?" She searches the crowd with her eyes again.

"You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?" she replies. Even I laugh at this, I can relate to that feeling.

Caesar continues, "Yes. Start then."

"I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing this, either." She lifts the skirt slightly, making the jewels sparkle. "I mean, look at it." She looks into the crowd again and nods slightly. She stands and twirls. The gems sparkle and ripple, erupting in flame.

Eagerly Caesar orders, "Oh, do that again!" She continues and then slowly stops, clutching Caesars arm, just like she did the boys at the Reaping. "Don't stop!" he laughs.

"I have to, I'm dizzy!" She giggles, something I have never heard her do before and I smile at her nervous laughter.

Caesar wraps an arm around her jokingly, something I wish I could do, and says, "Don't worry, I've got you. Can't have you following in you mentor's footsteps."

As the camera pans to a humored, waving Haymitch, they sit back down. Caesar pushes forward with the interview, "It's all right, she's safe with me." I find this ironic considering a day from now we are being forced to right to the death. "So, how about that training score. E-le-ven. Give us a hint what happened in there."

I fight back a laugh as she bites her lip, "Um… all I can say is I think it was a first." The gang from District 12 and all the Gamemakers smile and laugh.

"You're killing us," begs Caesar, "Details. Details."

She smiles knowingly at the Gamemakers balcony and says, "I'm not supposed to talk about it right?"

A Gamemaker nods and shouts, "She's not!" I have a feeling he may have been the one who fell in the punch bowl.

"Thank you," she says. "Sorry. My lips are sealed."

Caesar scoots to the very edge of his seat, "Let's go back then, to the moment they called your sister's name at the reaping," he softly asks, he seems genuine, "And you volunteered. Can you tell us about her?"

I see a bit of panic cross her face and I can tell she obviously doesn't want to share this. She takes a breath and says, "Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything." This I knew but I am still surprised she shares this information.

"What did she say to you? After the Reaping?" Caesar asks.

She swallows, "She asked me to try hard to win." The audience is silent, clinging to her every word.

"And what did you say?" prompts Caesar gently.

Katniss remains silent for a moment before almost whispering, "I swore I would." She looks down at her hands, twisted together in her lap.

He gives her bare shoulder a squeeze, "I bet you did." The buzzer cuts him off. "Sorry we're out of time. Best of luck, Katniss Everdeen, tribute from District 12."

She is ushered to her seat and then they call my name, "Peeta Mellark, District 12."

I walk over and sit down next to Caesar. "Peeta. If I heard correctly, you come from a bakers family."

I try to gain confidence and reply, "Yes, yes. Which really has no meaning, but I know a lot about bread." Caesar joins the crowd and they laugh with me.

"Is the bread different here?" he asks rhetorically.

I decide to answer anyway, aware he didn't mean for me to. "Well, yes. Yours is fuller, and stranger."

Caesar nods in mock understanding. "And is there anything else different here? I imagine it is very different from your home, District 12."

I think about it a moment and answer, "Yes, your showers are weird."

At this, Caesar Flickerman flips his head back and laughs. The crowd is now in hysterics. "Hear that everyone? We have different showers. And what do you mean by this?"

"Well, there are lots of buttons and if you choose the wrong one, you could be squirted with ice-cold water, grass scented soap, and be scraped down by a hard-bristled brush."

I see people nodding in agreement. I am not alone in this experience. Caesar replies, "And have you found a scent you've particularly enjoyed?"

I lean towards him, "Tell me. Do I still smell like roses?" He hesitantly cranes forward and sniffs at my neck. The crowd goes wild, shouting, and screaming. Hooting their heads off.

He nods. "Yes. Yes. A little feminine, don't you think, Peeta? And what about me? How do I smell?"

I sniff him and respond, "You definitely smell better than me."

He laughs good-naturedly and waves off the laughter. He suddenly turns serious and I can feel my opportunity approaching, "Now tell me Peeta, is there any special girl back home?"

I pretend to be thinking but eventually shake my head.

Caesar won't accept this answer, like Haymitch and I expected, "Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

I sigh and my heartbeat quickens, "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the Reaping." I am aware of Katniss' gaze burning into the back of my head.

The crowd makes sounds of sympathy, they can relate, I am guessing.

"She have another fellow?" asks Caesar. I picture Gale.

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," I explain.

Caesar encourages me, "So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" My heart sinks a bit at the reality of what I am about to say.

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning… won't help in my case," I say.

Caesar looks puzzled, "Why ever not?"

I feel my face turning red and I stammer, "Because…" Can I go through with it? "Because… she came here with me."


	10. Chapter 10

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins. She wrote the books, made the characters, and quotes. I took actual quotes from the story. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, added to favorites, or followed. Feel free to continue to and if you haven't, feel free to start! I am now on winter break so hopefully my writing will improve and get longer. Thanks again! And I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 10

The crowd goes silent and I look down into my hands. I can feel everybody's stare pressing in on me. I steal a glance up at one of the screens and spy Katniss' shocked face on the screen. She knows now. It is out in the open for everyone to see. She sees herself on every screen and closes her mouth and moves her gaze to the floor, as do I.

"Oh, that's a piece of bad luck," says Caesar. He looks genuinely pained by our (my) situation. The crowd whimpers and cries as realization dawns on them.

I look up at him and quietly reply, "It's not good." It is all I can muster.

He replies, again with the perfect comment, "Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady. She didn't know?"

I shake my head sadly, "Not until now." My mind is racing. What does she think? Does she believe me? Will she talk to me about it? Or continue ignoring me? My eyes flick to the screen again and catch Katniss' pink cheeks and I feel mine burning as well.

"Wouldn't you love to pull her back out here and get a response?" Caesar addresses the audience. Please no. He is returned with a deafening screaming assent. "Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent. Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with you."

With the crowd roaring, I mutter a quick, "Thank you," that is drown out by the Capitol sounds and I return to my spot next to Katniss. All the tributes stand and look at the audience as the anthem plays. I see a live feed of Katniss and I standing by each other on stage on half the screens in the joint. Like at the Opening Ceremonies, they can't keep their cameras or eyes off us. The tributes all file off stage to the elevators and I try to stay near Katniss but I can tell she is purposefully veering away from me, so I let her be. I find myself in an elevator with a few other tributes who all get off at their floors leaving me alone with my thoughts for a few seconds.

The doors to floor twelve open and I step out just as the other set of doors slide open, revealing a very angry looking Katniss. She marches up to me and shoves me with a brute force in the chest and I lose my balance falling back. My lower back comes in contact with an urn and I feel it shatter beneath me, but not before bruising my spine. I roll onto an array of broken clay and glass and immediately my hands are gushing warm blood. I look up at her and see her, with hands on her hips, angrily staring me down.

I try to not let the pain influence my voice as I ask, "What was that for?"

She glares at me, "You had no right! No right to go saying those things about me!" She's yelling now.

The elevators open once more and the whole crew enters: Effie, Haymitch, Portia, and Cinna. "What's going on?" says Effie, not observing the situation very well, "Did you fall?"

Effie and Cinna help pull me out of the wreckage as I say, rather roughly, "After she shoved me."

"Shoved him?" Haymitch sighs and slowly turns to Katniss. Her arms are folded across her chest and she is looking anywhere but at him.

"This was your idea, wasn't it? Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?" was her answer to him.

"It was my idea," I explain, I wince as I pull little spikes and other remains from the palms of my hands. "Haymitch just helped me with it." I look up at her.

"Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. To you!" She shouts.

"You are a fool," Haymitch says in disgust, looking away, "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you could never achieve on your own."

She counters, "He made me look weak!" This was not the reaction I was hoping for when I admitted my feelings. She doesn't even seem to believe them.

I turn red as Haymitch continues, "He made you look desirable! And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until he said he wanted you." I beg my face not to show that I really do believe this, "Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District 12!"

She retorts, "But we're not star-crossed lovers!" Ouch. I didn't expect her to immediately love me, but at least accept friendship. Maybe?

Haymitch lashes out and pins her up against the wall with one arm. In her face he voices, "Who cares? It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived. The most I could say about you after your interview was that you were nice enough, although that in itself was a small miracle. Now I can say you're a heartbreaker. Oh, oh, oh, how the boys back home fall longingly at your feet. Which do you think will get you more sponsors?" I see her cringing away from his foul alcohol-heavy breath.

She shakes free of his grasp and Cinna puts an arm around her. "He's right, Katniss."

She appears to be calming down as she adds, "I should have been told, do I didn't look so stupid."

Portia disagrees, "No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real."

I toss a piece of the urn away and decide to mention her possible love interest. "She's just worried about her boyfriend," I murmur.

I look up and her cheeks are burning though she denies the fact, "I don't have a boyfriend."

We both are thinking about Gale and I raise as eyebrow. "Whatever, but I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it," I imply that I was bluffing, recovering from her obvious rejection, "Besides, you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?" I try to make myself not sound pathetic and hurt when I say this. She is much more reserved and seems to be contemplating what I've said.

She lights up, "After he said he loved me, did you think I could be in love with him, too?"

Portia replies first, "I did. The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush." At this, she blushes a bit again. The others add in, agreeing unanimously.

"You're golden sweetheart. You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block," says Haymitch. This is one of the only nice things he's said to her, I notice.

Katniss looks like she is forcing herself to turn to me, and she looks uncomfortable and embarrassed about how she acted. "I'm sorry I shoved you." She finally gets eye contact with me.

I understand her confusion and I just shrug, though I am a bit hurt, and say, "Doesn't matter, although it's technically illegal." I give her a timid smile.

"Are your hands okay?" She sounds genuinely concerned.

"They'll be all right," I assure her.

"Come on, let's eat," says Haymitch, filling in the awkward silence that followed my reply. I trail behind Katniss as she wanders into the dining room with Haymitch, Effie, Cinna, and Portia. When we all are seated, there is a delicious cream and rose petal soup arranged around the table. There are little silver bowls at each place and we start to eat. My hands are bleeding still though, and I end up getting too much blood on everything, so Portia leads me out of the room to a washroom. I see Katniss eyeing us guiltily as we walk out. I feel bad that she feels bad, if that makes any sense.

When we enter the washroom there is the red-haired Avox in a corner, standing. Portia rinses off my hands, wiping away the torn flesh and asks the Avox girl to fetch us some rubbing alcohol to clean it out with, medicine, and bandages. She nods and walks out returning quickly with the requested objects.

As Portia gently rubs at my cuts, making them sting, she half-whispers, "you meant it didn't you?" I am hoping she isn't talking about my failed confession and I decide to play dumb.

"Meant what?" I flinch, as the pain is suddenly sharp. She looks at me skeptically, and I give in and mumble, "Well…um… yeah." She begins to rub a creamy medicine into it, making it feel soothed and cool.

"When I said I thought she could love you back, I meant it too." That is the last thing she says as she finishes wrapping my hand and pins it in place.

We go back and join everyone at dinner, which they have almost all finished and we quickly eat our share and then follow everyone to the well-used sitting room to watch the replay. Katniss is beautiful and incredible, though I can see her looking at herself with disgust on the screen. I am able to get through mine until the end when I am stumbling and awkwardly admitting I am in love with Katniss, in front of all of Panem. My heart beats a little faster at that thought. Everyone in the country knows about my (former) secret crush, except the girl it's on. She thinks it is one big joke. Right? The screen darkens and the Capitol anthem plays one more time before it is over.

The Games start tomorrow so we will have to wake up early in order to arrive wherever they are located by 9:45 am at the latest, 10:00 am when the Games start. Effie squeezes both of hands and thanks us, with tears peeping out the corners of her eyes, "You are the best tributes I have ever had the privilege to sponsor." Because she is Effie she adds, "I wouldn't be at all surprised if I finally get promoted to a decent district next year!" She kisses our cheeks and rushes away, overcome with emotion.

Haymitch looks at us both grimly, arms crossed. "Any last words of advice?" I ask.

He nods. "When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopia. Just clear out, put as much distance between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water," he says, "Got it?"

"And after that?" Katniss asks.

"Stay alive." It is the same advice from the train, when he first agreed to work with us. Only this time, he is sober, and nobody is laughing.

Katniss nods and starts to head up to her bed room while I linger, wanting to talk to Portia and Haymitch.

Once everyone has left I realize that I don't know what I am asking, what am I saying? I must have looked extremely pathetic because Portia reaches out and hugs me.

She speaks into my blonde hair, saying exactly what I need to hear, "You can do whatever you want. You can win if you want, and live, but you won't really be living. You could save her, you'd die, but you would be able to deal with it, as long as she is okay." I think about what she's said and then I decide then and there. I will save her; I don't have anything to live for without her. She smiles knowingly and walks down a hallway, leaving me with Haymitch, standing in the dining room.

I start, "Haymitch-"

He cutes me off, "Now I know what you want, you want to help her, right? I think I've figured out something you might be interested in." I nod and he continues, "Now, I want you to befriend the Careers."

My jaw drops in shock but I quickly recover, "You want me to what?" How will that help Katniss? Surely, they want her dead. How could I befriend the people killing her?

"You will say that you can help them find her, in order to stay alive for a bit longer. Lead them in circles. You know her better than anyone; you'll be able to tell where she is. When they start to question you, you leave them. You can go find Katniss if you like, and help her. She just might have a shot at winning." I start to nod because I could see this working. He nods to me and with that, leaves.

I don't even bother to walk to my room. I won't be sleeping tonight. I go strait to the roof that Cinna showed me the first day here. That I showed Katniss the first night. I stare out at the streets. There's music and car horns and laughter and singing. They are having a party to celebrate the Games, to celebrate the forced death of twenty-three kids and the loss of humanity in one. The lights never go off here. It is just another constant that they take for granted, just like everything else in this place. Everything is extreme, fake, and taken for granted. The colors to bright, the sounds too loud. The food too abundant, the items unused. In District 12 we use everything we have the fortune to lay our hands on. People die every day because they don't have the things that are widespread here in the Capitol and they are completely clueless.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't notice I was not alone. Katniss has crept up behind me and says, making me jump, "You should be getting some sleep."

I shake my head, still staring down into the streets surrounding our building, "I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all."

She walks up next to me and leans on the railing, imitating me. I notice her bare arm is ever so slightly brushing my arm, forcing goosebumps to dance their way up and down my arm. She squints down at the tiny figures dancing and singing. "Are they in costumes?"

"Who could tell?" I answer, "With all the crazy clothes they wear here." It is quiet for a moment, "Couldn't sleep, either?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off," she says softly.

"Thinking about your family?" I know she cares about them. More than I do about mine.

"No," she looks regretful, "All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course." She looks at my face, and then trails down to my hands, which are awkwardly balanced on the railing due to the thick bandages. "I really am sorry about your hands."

"It doesn't matter, Katniss," I say, brushing off the apology, "I've never been a contender in these Games anyway."

She looks taken aback, "That's no way to be thinking."

"Why not?" I ask, "It's true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and…" I hesitate, unsure of my wording.

She catches my hesitation, "And what?"

"I don't know how to say it exactly. Only… I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" I ask. She shakes her head, lost. "I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not." They can't just force me to do what they want.

She bites her lip and looks back down. "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"

I think about it, "No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to… to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," I say.

She looks at me, "But you're not. None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"Okay, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me," I insist. "Don't you see?" She doesn't understand what I'm saying.

"A little. Only… no offense, but who cares, Peeta?" It is an innocent question but I have only one solid answer.

"I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" I say, a bit angrily. I lock eyes with her and she looks scared. She doesn't know I mean her.

She takes a step back from me and says, "Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive."

I smile, sadly but mockingly, and I utter the words, "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart."

She looks offended at me using Haymitch's nickname for her. "Look, if you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some noble death in the arena, that's your choice. I want to spend mine in District 12."

"Wouldn't surprise me if you do," I say, "Give my mother my best when you make it back, will you?" I am almost serious when I say the last part. Almost.

She gives me one last look in the eyes and says, "Count on it." She turns and leaves the roof leaving me the way I started, alone.

I decide to go to bed, soon after Katniss' exit and I go and lay down on my bed. 'This is the last time I will sleep in a real bed.' Is my last thought before I drift off to slumber.

Only to wake up (what feels like) one hour later by Portia, who hands me a simple outfit I will wear while we travel. After I take my last shower and get dressed, I am lead to the roof where there is a hovercraft waiting. A ladder it hanging down and I grab on. I am frozen in this position as they pull me up.

When I enter they shoot something in to my arm, explaining that it is my tracker, and then they let me go and have me sit at a table with Portia, eating the last meal I will have with another human that doesn't want me dead.

We sit there in silence for about an hour and a half, and then the windows are blacked out, so that we don't know the set up of the Games. I stand up wearily as we are lowered down and given directions to my launch room. I am the only tribute who will ever use this room. They use all their fancy Capitol-made stuff so that I can spend the last minutes of my life in nice chambers. How thoughtful of them. I can't help but notice that this one-time use room is nicer than many houses in District 12, especially the Seam.

Portia exits the room and quickly comes back with a small white package. She has obtained what I will be wearing in the arena. Neither of us has seen it so when she unwraps it, we both look into the paper. There are black pants, much like the ones we wore in training, except they are slightly less tight. Placed under that there is a faint green shirt. Portia has me change into that while she gets the rest of the uniform out. I find the outfit comfortable and easy to move in. She hands me a sturdy brown belt and I loop it around my waist. She helps me into a thin black jacket with a hood. It reaches the very top of my thighs.

"I believe this fabric is made to maintain body heat. It is probably going to be cold some nights, though the rest of the ensemble suggests warm weather," Portia observes as she hands over a pair of skin-tight black socks, which I pull on.

I smile as she pulls out a pair of black, leather boots. They look almost the exact same as the ones Katniss wore every day hunting. She must be relieved to have something that hits close to home.

Katniss. In an hour she could be dead. She could be gone and I might as well be too. I need to get the Careers trust.

Suddenly a female voice smoothly coos out, "It's time to prepare for launch."

I walk over to the small metal plate in the corner and Portia comes in front of me. There is nothing left to say but she hugs me and kisses my cheek. I look un the black tube above me as a glass cylinder lowers itself around me. I try to arrange myself in a somewhat brave matter, but on the inside I am screaming.

We are lifted for only about fifteen seconds before light floods in, I can't see anything because I am used to the dim lights below. There is a breeze that flows by me and I think I smell pine trees.

Suddenly, Claudius Templesmith's voice blares over the speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-forth Hunger Games begin!"


	11. Chapter 11

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins, again, for the characters, story, and some quotes! Thank you to everyone who is following this story! If you haven't, please feel free to follow, review, or add to favorites if you like it! Sorry this chapter is a little shorter; it was hard to come up with what happened in the time that Katniss was walking in the forest! I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!**

Chapter 11

They make us stand on our metal platforms for sixty seconds. Sixty more seconds of anxiety as we take in our surroundings. I observe pine tree forests as far as the eye can see, except in our small clearing we're gathered in. There are twenty-four metal plates with some nervous, some anxious, some paralyzed tributes placed on them. We form an arch in front of the Cornucopia, filled with everything you could need in this arena. If anyone was to step off early, they tell us there are mines in the ground that would blow you to bits. Nobody has questioned this, nor do they want to, so we wait. Sixty seconds starts now.

I look at the Cornucopia, piled high. There are things people need in order to survive like water, medicine, and a meager food supply. Then there are the weapons. I see blades with ragged edges, just waiting to be picked up. There are swords and spears. Even a trident. I can see every weapon anyone would prefer. As they objects get closer to us, and further from the golden metal Cornucopia, they become smaller and less needed or wanted. In front of me is a metal bowl. It would be useful to store water and maybe food but it is bulky and unnecessary.

I search each tributes face frantically looking for Katniss. I spy her, about five tributes to my left. She is eyeing the stash and I follow her gaze to a bow with a sheath of arrows leaning up against it. I know she is contemplating what Haymitch said to us. "Just clear out, out as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water." She doesn't look too keen on doing as he advised, as she gets in a position, ready to launch herself at the Cornucopia, strait into the soon-to-be blood bath.

Finally, she glances over at me, and gets eye contact. I shake my head at her. No, Katniss, do not do this. It is not worth the risk. The gong sounds, signaling that the sixty seconds are up and I turn and sprint into the forest, hoping Katniss will imitate me and run. I pause at the edge of the forest and turn to watch the battles break out, I see Katniss still hasn't left the platform. I immediately see the boy and girl from District 2 grab weapons. She has a handful of knives and turns throwing them, never missing her target. The boy has a sword and the girl in front of him has just sprawled out in front of him, the blood on her shirt spreading.

I see Katniss stagger off her platform, snatching something in front of her and running a few more yards forwards to grab a bright orange backpack. A boy from District 9 reaches it at the same time but then he kneels, coughing up blood and falling down on his face. A long bladed knife protruding out of his back. Katniss looks at him, shocked. The girl from 2 is sprinting towards her, aiming her knife, ready to throw. Katniss hops up and turns around, fleeing the scene. The petite girl throws her knife and just as it's about to come in contact with the back of Katniss' head, she hikes up the bag so it covers her head. The knife skewers her bag and stays in it. She disappears into the trees and I focus my attention on the girl. She growls and turned back to the Cornucopia.

I start to move towards a large bag that is towards the outside of the circle. I rush towards it but as I am closing in on it, the boy from 2 slams into my side, knocking me down. I land on my back and the air is knocked out of me and I lay there gasping. I am going to have a bruise from that. He smirks down at me, "Well, if it isn't Lover Boy? Trying to get something to help your girl? The Girl on Fire?" He mocks her title like it is pathetic and weak. I try to get up but he knees me in the face, making my nose gush blood. He kneels and places one leg on my chest. His face lowers so it is only inches from mine and says, "Should I just kill you now? Or keep you alive so that you can watch your little girlfriend die? You might come in handy when we track her down tonight." My heart pounds as I thrash around, starting to doubt Haymitch's genius plan. He punches me in the jaw and it erupt in pain. I can feel it swelling already.

Suddenly, the girl with black hair and freckles sprints over to the boy holding me down. "Cato! What have you got there?"

I assume the boy on me is Cato as he replies, "Looks like we've got ourself a Lover Boy. He's offered to help find Katniss. The girl on fire." She grins madly and then she looks up, past us. She throws a knife and I hear a girl cry out and then something hit the ground with a thud. My stomach clenches at I resist the urge to look. The urge wins.

I turn sideways and look around us. There are bloodied bodies everywhere and only a few tributes are still at it. There is a girl from District 1 holding the bow, firing at random. She hasn't hit a single person. That bow belongs in Katniss hands. The boy from 1 makes one last stab with his spear, hitting a boy curled up on the ground and I hear a whimper. Then, silence.

"I think we've got them all, except this one here," the blonde girl from 1 nudges my arm with her foot and I jerk away. She giggles at me and I recognize her as the tribute with the sheer golden dress at the interviews.

Cato glares down at me, as if daring me to question what he says, "Nah. He is going to help us. He wants that girl gone just as much as we do. Doesn't want the competition." I stare at him, wondering how he plans on convincing me to actually help them. I'd rather die than help them find her.

But I nod anyway, "I am done with her. She obviously rejected me and I don't need her." I try my best to act embarrassed, which isn't hard considering I actually was rejected.

The girl from 2 nods to Cato, "Pick him up. He could be of some help." She directs her attention down to me as Cato climbs up and gives me a hand up, "What did you get in training?"

I hesitantly reply, "An eight."

They seem to have a discussion between their eyes and then look me over. "Well you must be able to do something then, Baker Boy," Cato adds. Will he just keep making up names for me?

They seem to have a mutual agreement that I can stay and we all make our way across the bodies to the stash. I listen to their conversations and start to catch on to who is who. The guy who pinned me down was Cato, from District 2. His fellow tribute from 2 is Clove, the girl with the knives. Then there is Glimmer and Marvel from District 1.

They decide to rest and organize the supplies for the next couple hours until it starts to get dark. Cato, who seems to be their leader, decides that we will be going and searching for tributes. So we divide ourselves and set out.

I notice the girl from 1, Glimmer, is clinging to Cato's arm and flirtasiously laughing and batting her eyelashes at him, though he pays her no mind, which makes her pout. I expect she is not used to boys ignoring her.

We decided to go, unfortunately, in the direction that Katniss went, though I said I didn't see her, Clove was watching when she disappeared. They want to eliminate the girl on fire.

After we have been wandering about in the forest aimlessly, time has passed. Though it is still dark, dawn is creeping up on us. Cato insists that the night is the best time to hunt people down because they do not expect it and the dumb ones start fires. I make a note to myself, not to do that once I have ditched this crew.

There had been quite a bit of squabbling over who got to go scouting the first night. There are five of us total, including me. In the end, we only left the girl from four guarding the Cornucopia. So out with us are Cato, Marvel, Glimmer, and Clove. We have been walking around in the forest for what feels like hours, with no luck. Suddenly, I spy a fire glowing faintly, a ways away from us. I don't want to mention is but I need to earn their trust.

"Cato, is that a fire over there?" I point in the direction. Cato follows my finger and starts to smirk.

"Yes, I believe that is!" He cackles while Clove and Glimmer follow suit. Under his breath Cato counts down, "Three… Two… One!" We all sprint through the woods with heavy footfalls. In the back of my head I pray that it is not Katniss. I think she is too smart to do that, but I am still uncertain.

When we burst into the small clearing they set up a fire, I see a girl, about 15, leaning against a tree trunk. She wakes with a start and pleads with us, "Please! No!"

Cato hands me the knife, "You found her. You get to kill her." I notice how he says, 'get to' like it is some kind of privilege I should be happy to be granted. I look at the knife in my hands and it feels foreign, so unlike the ones I used to cut bread at the bakery.

Cato looks irritable at how slowly I am moving. He jerks it out of my hand, "Let me do it." He takes it and stabs her in the throat, immediately making her body fall limply at my feet. There are a few cries of success as it occurs but I just stare, not sure how to react.

Clove shouts out, "Twelve down, and eleven to go!" I wonder if they are even thinking about the fact they will have to kill each other eventually. They will figure it out. Everyone hoots and shouts, jumping up and down excitedly at our small victory.

They crudely search her bag for supplies but give disappointed responses, hinting at the fact that they haven't found anything of use. They discard her body, now soaked in her own blood, to the side of the tree.

"Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking," Cato announces. Everyone in the pack agrees and I follow as we head downhill a bit. We stop at a clearing and look around, waiting for the cannon.

"Shouldn't we have hear a cannon by now?" Marvel asks.

"I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately." Clove mutters.

"Unless she isn't dead," Glimmer suggests.

"She's dead. I stuck her myself." Cato says gruffly.

"Then where's the cannon?" Glimmer says pointedly at him.

Clove eyes me, "Someone should go back. Make sure the job's done."

"Yeah we don't want to have to track her down twice." Marvel agrees.

"I said she's dead!" Cato yells. Glimmer shrinks away from his side.

Everyone starts arguing and I interrupt, "We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!" When I say this, I hear a slight shuffle in the tree directly behind Cato. I look into the tree, but see nothing but black. I think of the people I know in the Games who climb trees and decide I want neither of them to be discovered so I stay quiet. I turn and head back to the girl.


	12. Chapter 12

**Once again, all credit goes to Suzanne Collins. She created everything. Thanks again to anyone who has reviewed, followed, or added to favorites! If you haven't please feel free to! Sorry if this chapter is terrible, it was a hard one because I had to make a lot of it, while still making it fit together. Sorry it is short as well.**

Chapter 12

"Go on, then, Lover Boy," Cato says to me, "See for yourself." I can see he is irritated at the fact that I feel the need to check. But I know it will stop the bickering.

I take a torch from Glimmer and head back to the girl. As I wander back and I can just barely hear them talking. I am careful not to make noise so I can hear.

"Why don't we just kill him now and get it over with?" whines Clove.

"Let him tag along. What's the harm? And he's handy with that knife," Cato replies. I don't know what I have done besides shake when it was placed in my hands but I smile anyway. He continues, "Besides, he's our best chance of finding her."

Glimmer snorts, "Why? You think she bought into all that sappy romance stuff?"

Clove grumbles, "She might have. Seemed pretty simpleminded to me. Every time I think about her spinning around in that dress, I want to puke."

Cato replies, "Wish we knew how she got that eleven." I laugh a bit internally. If they only knew…

Clove sneers, "Bet you Lover Boy knows." I am going to have to be careful, not share too much information that jeopardizes her.

I decide now is a good time to return to the conversation and just as I am walking into the group Cato turns to me and asks, "Was she dead?"

I respond, "No. But she is now." I avoid Clove's probing eyes, "Ready to move on?" Just as I finish talking, the cannon fires, and I look down at my feet. They hoot again, feeling achieved and I scowl.

The anthem begins to play. It lists all the tributes killed at the Cornucopia and I nervously wait for them. They start with the first district and work their way to the higher numbered ones. Obviously all the tributes from 1 and 2 are alive, with us, so it starts with District 3. There are random amounts dead from districts. I cringe when I see the girl we just killed flash in the sky, and I hold my breath as they approach 10. It stops there. The girl from 10 is dead and then the sky is black again. That means that both tributes are alive in 11, and Katniss is alive. I resist the urge to laugh, I'm so happy. This spirit is quickly dampened when Marvel mutters, "That stupid girl is still alive, Cato." He frowns but doesn't say anything.

After they discuss who is gone and who is left Cato leads us and we start sprinting through the forest again. We search for signs of any signs of other beings, finding none. But as we continue moving, the sun starts to creep out from behind the clouds. It's spindly fingers reach out and caress my face pushing away the cold from last night. I am starting to get exhausted after running all night, trying to keep up with these Careers.

I am getting to a point that I need rest, and water. Luckily, Clove seems to be thinking along the same lines, "Cato! We need a break. We've been running for hours with no luck." He reluctantly nods and sits down on a small boulder. He looks as exhausted as the rest of us.

I offer up an idea, "Does anybody want to sleep? I will stay watch and wake you up if there is anything suspicious." They don't seem to be very trusting of me and they are eyeing me, checking if I am telling the truth. I shrug. They decide to have one person stay up with me at all times. They seem to think that I will slit their throats while they are sleeping. As Cato, Clove, and Glimmer drift off to sleep, I am almost tempted to, that would make it so much easier to help Katniss. But I can't do it. I couldn't after I have actually somewhat gotten to know these people. In fact, I wouldn't be able to do that to anyone.

I wonder where Katniss is, if she is okay. I remember Haymitch telling us to find water and pull out mine. Does Katniss have water? I dismiss that thought, assuming she is smart enough to know where to look. I star to drink from my small water bottle. No matter what I look at or what I think of, Katniss keeps entering my mind. She might as well take up permanent residence there.

I look down at the sleeping tributes strewn around me and see that Marvel has drifted off as well. I don't blame them for being tired. It has been almost thirty-six hours since the Games begun and we've been running non-stop. Not many people have slept since the Games begun, I presume, and I know many probably didn't sleep the night before.

The few times I fell asleep as the Games neared, I was woken in a paralyzed shock. The nightmares got more vivid and more painful as time went on. I would wake up in a sweat, tangled in my sheets, and I would be forced to get up and walk around to clear my head. Back home, I shared a room with Adrian and I would wake up about once a week. That memory seems so distant now. I can still picture his calm features though, the composed way he went about everything. I realize this is the first time I have really thought about my family since I left. I wonder what they are thinking. I can see them all, crowded around the small television we scrapped by to purchase. They would never want to watch it in the square where the other citizens are. Whenever a tributes family goes in public during or after the Games, everyone looks at them sadly. They seem distant, like they want to help but don't know how. I don't know how my family will react when I don't go home. I know they are expecting me to lose, but when it actually happens, will they be sad? I know my dad will, I can picture him silently crying, the way he does every year when our tributes die. Generally this would upset my brothers and I so I'd try to leave the house whenever I could during the Games. Nobody would even notice I was gone. They probably feel like that now.

I watch the sun inch its way across the sky and observe the people lying around me. Everyone looks so peaceful. They could be normal people, living a happy life, not bloodthirsty killers who yearn to kill an innocent teenage girl. After they have been sleeping for a few hours, Cato starts to stir. He opens his eyes and finds himself a few inches away from Glimmer, who seemed to have inched her way onto his arm while they were asleep. He jerks up a bit and then delicately lays her head on some brush. He gets up and sees me sitting next to a sleeping Marvel and looks a bit irritable.

"How long have I been out?" he inquires. I see a red mark on the side of his face from where his hand was pressed against it.

"Few hours. Not too terribly long," He nods at me and offers to take next watch and I yawn, a thank-you to him.

I walk over to an empty patch, a few paces from the others and lay down. I can just see the outline of all of them while I start to doze off.

"Peeta! Peeta!" Katniss' desperate voice rings out and I jump up, I can hear her agonized cries not far from me. I start sprinting in the direction I think I hear her from, through the forest. Then I stop. I hear it again, "Peeta! Help me! Peeta!" her scream of terror makes my skin run cold and I desperately turn around and around. It is coming from every side. The sound is closing in on me. I can hear my blood pumping in my ears, beating fast and faster like I'm running out of time.

She continues to shout my name. Over and over and over again. I continue to run every time I hear her. She is suddenly louder and clearer and I can see her braid disappear around a tree. I keep winding in and out of the trail she sets but she is always just barely out of reach. Then, I hear one last cry, "Peeta! Where are you? Peeta?" I try to shout out to her but when I open up my mouth no words come out. There is sound but it is foreign, not my voice.

I sit strait up, drenched in a cool sweat. I momentarily forget where I am and look around. I see the figure of Clove standing to my right, smirking. "You say you don't love her, huh?" I feel my cheeks tint red and I look down. I hear her murmur, "Then why do you whisper her name while you sleep?" Do I detect a hint of jealousy that there isn't someone doing so over her?

I notice that everyone is up and packing up their things. I follow suit and in a few minutes, we have everything together.

Cato enlightens us, "You guys hurry up and get ready! If you can't keep up we will leave you. And then your fair game." There is a tense silence as everyone speeds up. We start the day on those terms and start to hike our way through the forests.

I notice it in quiet. Too quiet. Usually we hear the mockingjays singing or the other wildlife making their way through. I am about to comment on it when I hear something that sounds the way the train did, gliding through the districts. I look up where I hear it and that's when I see the first one. A giant ball of fire is plummeting strait towards us, barely visible beyond the glare of the sun. "Fire!" I shout, turning and running, the other see it and follow my suit. That is when we run.


	13. Chapter 13

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins. Characters, story, plot, and all dialogue. I wish I could say I own it but sadly, I do not. Thank you to all my followers and anyone who has reviewed or added to favorites! It is much appreciated. If you have not, feel free to!**

Chapter 13

We all sprint through the forest, in the direction I think is away. I can't tell because they seem to be coming from everywhere, all directions. I see Cato bolting through the trees ahead of me, the girls on either side, and Marvel lagging behind us. I leap to the side as a tree bursts into flame, right next to me. The forest seems to be catching fire as quickly as I move. One second it was clear and open, the next everything is an orange heat.

I continue to follow the trail that Cato is forging through the maze of fire. It's being dampered as smoke starts to close my view. My eyes burn and start to moisten and I can feel my throat closing up, due to lack of oxygen. I hear a cry of fear escape the mouth of somebody to my right but I don't have time to stop.

I shout out as a tree gives way, letting branches fall. One of them hits my shoulder and sears my shoulder, falling and brushing my arm and chest on the way. My running is able to put it out but the feeling is still strong. I feel a sizzling patch of skin on my shoulder that stings with a million pinpricks. The flesh is throbbing and I try to ignore the pain as I press forward. I can barely see and I follow the sound of footsteps in front of me that I assume to be Cato or Clove's.

Finally, I spy a clearing up ahead that doesn't look contaminated by fire. There is blue sky, and green brush. I press my way the final stretch and burst through the final wall of flame, rolling onto grass.

As immediately as it started, the fire starts to sizzle out. I would like to call it a wildfire but I am too cynical of the Capitol and know the Gamemakers are responsible. I choke down gulps of the crisp air and lay down on my back, inspecting the sky. My raw throat stings and I reach for my bag, only to realize it is scorched, and covered in holes.

After taking a long drink, I turn my attention to the others, surveying them. Cato looks relatively unharmed but I see him retching into a bush. Probably he is trying to rid his mouth and throat of the synthetic smoke. Clove has a burn on her hand and cheek. From the looks of it, something hit her face I see the end of her ponytail smoking a bit and looks charred. Marvel, on the other hand, is not doing as robust as us. The back of his jacket is almost completely singed off and I spy red flesh baking. He winces as he removes his jacket and pours a bit of water down his back.

I decide to analyze my injury at this point, due to the fact that it is starting to pulsate with waves of heat. I remove my jacket, which is only slightly damaged, and then remove my thin shirt and look down at my shoulder. The flesh is red with a few white blisters starting to form. I have received worse from working in the bakery and calm at the sight of it. There are a few more minor burns on my chest, back, and arms, but nothing that I cannot undergo. I look up and find Clove peering at me and begin to feel self-conscious. I quickly slip my shirt back on and she smirks, looking away.

After everyone is semi-recovered. Cato starts to articulate, "Now, we cannot let this slow us down. I'm sure other tributes are affected by this, and we can use it to our advantage."

"How are we going to find them any easier than the last day?" Clove complains, "We are even less in any shape to chase." She is obviously not looking forward to the expected running ahead in the future.

He gives her an exasperated look and continues, "What do you want right now? Now that you are burned?" I see them exchange glances, confused.

I start thinking about it and then remember the first thing I wanted, "Water. They are going to be near a water source." Cato nods at me, impressed.

"We can start at the river, that'd be the most obvious one. I am guessing nobody would go to the lake near our camp, because they know we're there. Then we can check for small pools in the clearings. I am guessing they will be staying there for a while, sitting ducks." Cato starts to snicker and I try my best to look amused at the thought, though I am sure I fail.

We all hurriedly pack up what little provision we have, assuming we will have to go back to our camp soon anyway, and head out. We divide up a bit, having three people on one side of the stream, two on the other. I am on the far side with Clove and Marvel. We search the water, and muddy banks. Looking for signs of any tributes. I don't mention the fact that it is likely there are tributes in the trees and hope none of them think of the idea. We are not staying very quiet, as everyone is coughing. I notice that any tribute that heard us would easily be able to run away in time. I do not mention this either.

Cato seems to be frustrated that his plan is not working and I hide my smile, he hasn't thought it out well. He decides it is time to switch to clearings. We start walking through the forest. Looking for anything that would hint at water or tributes. I notice that Marvel is walking with less energy and I can almost see the heat radiating off of his injured back.

Too soon after we start the search I hear Clove shout out, "I've found someone. Can't tell who!" We run over to her and start tearing through the forest as a unit. Before we are even very close I feel my heart drop. I see the familiar braid bounce as she scrambles out of the water, hearing us.

We break into the clearing and I avert my gaze immediately after seeing her splash away and start to scale a tree. She is already at least twenty feet in the air when we reach the base of her tree. She stops and peaks down at us at this point, as if sizing us up. I plead for her to continue climbing, to get away from us.

She seems to hear my thoughts and do the opposite, "How's everything with you?" She calls down to us, too cheerfully.

This makes them confused. She is supposed to be terrified of them, not able to move she is so frozen with horror. They obviously don't know Katniss like I do.

Cato replies with a slight snarl in his voice, "Well enough, yourself?" They carry on this conversation like they are two neighbors, just checking up on each other.

I leer at Katniss' response down to us, "It's been a bit warm for my taste," she pauses, "The air's better up here. Why don't you come on up?"

I look up at her incredulously, and then back down. Does she aspire to get herself killed?

"Think I will," says Cato, taking a step towards the trunk.

Glimmer holds out the bow and sheath, "Here, take this, Cato." I can see Katniss glaring at the girl holding her weapon. It was meant for her. Only her, I, and the Gamemakers know that though. I can feel Katniss scrutinizing me. Trying to force me to look up at her but I refuse to. What must she be thinking? I have teamed up with the Careers. She is probably repulsed by me, not knowing why I did it.

I pretend to be busy polishing my small blade on the edge of my black shirt. After much speculation, Cato approved me having a weapon, suppose somebody snuck up and I had no way to protect the group. Back in the present, Katniss continues to scan me but I feel her give up, directing her attention back to Cato.

"No," says Cato, ignoring the bow. "I'll do better with my sword." He taps the heavy blade hanging from his belt.

Katniss watches as Cato clasps a low branch, hoisting himself into the tree. As he gains footing, Katniss proceeds to the top and starts to scurry her way up. I can tell Cato is much to heavy to make it up as far as she is currently. She is already ten more feet up when Cato grabs a weak branch that snaps, forcing him to tumble down, landing in a heap at the bottom. He swears and glares up at her, as he stands up.

"Glimmer, shoot her. You go the bow," Clove mutters to Glimmer.

She slings the bow over her shoulder and makes her way up a bit further than Cato, then stops. She pulls out the bow and notches an arrow, aiming at Katniss, who is now eighty feet in the air, at least.

I hold my breath. She shoots and doesn't even hit the tree she's on, but one near it. I breathe out and see Katniss snigger at her. She grabs the arrow near her and waves it tauntingly. Obviously this bother Glimmer and she shoots again, not even bothering to aim well, not that it would help her.

"Come one! Get her!" Clove shouts. Marvel and Cato murmur in agreement. But Glimmer lowers herself down a few braches and then jumps down, landing in a crouched position.

Twilight is approaching and I am hoping this will stop them. But as I listen to their conversation, all I hear are far-fetched theories on how to get her dead.

"Oh, let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning." I hope the others will by into my lie, and they do.

They look at me for a bit but then, one by one, they start to settle down for the night. They decide to keep one up watching her at all times, to make sure she doesn't try to escape, though I am sure she wouldn't be foolish to try something like that. They choose to not allow me to keep watch, again, scared I would let her escape, and that is smart move on their part, because I would. I lay down with my head on my pack. I get in such a position that I can clearly see Katniss sitting on a fork high in the tree. The moonlight just barely illuminates her face so that it is all I can view in some sort of detail.

She arranges some sort of sleeping bag and ties herself and it to the tree so she won't fall out. She leans against the tree for a moment and I see a look of discomfort pass over her face and she sits up and shuffles around in a bag for a moment. She pulls out a knife and slashes a hole in the bag and hangs her leg out of it, into the cool night air. I spy red flesh festering and remember my burn. She starts to pour a bit of water on her calf and then her hands.

She is sitting there for a moment, completely still but then I see her face start to change as pain starts to set in. I wonder when the last time she ate was and I yearn to offer up what little food I have in my bag, but I know that would never work with the other Careers here. And who knew? She probably wouldn't even accept it.

I suddenly see her look up and across from her, at the tree next to her. At first she just glances up, then back down. Then a look of recognition crosses her face as she gazes again, longer. Her gaze then slowly creeps its way up, past the braches above her head and she focuses on something.


	14. Chapter 14

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins! She owns the plot, characters, and dialogue. Sorry this took longer to update! Just saw Catching Fire again last night! It was s good! Anyway, thank you for following, reviewing, or adding to favorites! If you haven't please do! Enjoy and have a very merry Christmas!**

Chapter 14

Her eyes travel up and spy something above her head, about 15 feet. I don't know what it is though; I can't make it out in the darkness. Maybe it's nothing.

A look of fear crosses her face, I have only seen this face a few times. The most recent being when Clove was chasing her and threw that knife at her. She has stopped moving as she stares above her. What is it? What could scare Katniss that much? I know it isn't some kind of animal because she is so used to their presence after hunting in the woods for the past few years. It must be some kind of Capitol mutation. I rack my brain, reflecting on every type of mutation they have out there.

Jabberjays, they were created to overhear enemy's conversations, which the Jay could then relay over to the Capitol armies. They ended up relaying random things the districts said, as they had figured it out and were trying to send them lies. So obviously, those backfired. They let them go in the wild but the only-male species mated with mockingbirds. This ended up creating Mockingjays, like the one I observed on Katniss' pin. They can repeat any type of music and it sounds beautiful. I remember hearing them in the forest when I was younger and saw Katniss singing to them with her father when they would go hunting. These couldn't be what is above her, they could never scare her.

That leaves Tracker Jackers. They are mechanically engineered wasps that look just like regular wasps apart from their solid gold body. But their stings are much worse than any ordinary bee sting. They can grow to be the size of plums and they hurt much more. Some people can endure several before the pain is unfathomable but there have been cases in which people have died with only a few stings. Along with the painful sting, the venom brings the hallucinations that have made people go mad. When they find their target, the tracker jackers will hunt you down and as bad as they are, nobody wants that.

Now I understand why she is terrified, there must be a nest directly above her. She looks back across from her, into the trees but then back up. She slowly starts to ease herself out of her bag and I pray that Glimmer will not look up. What is Katniss doing? She doesn't think she will be able to get away does she, Glimmer may be looking tired on watch, but she is still conscious and in full capability to shout, waking the others. I feel slightly relieved as she starts to climb a bit higher but still worried. What is she going to do near where I think the tracker jacker nest is? Her hand glides to her belt and then she slides up a few more inches. Now all I can see is her legs up to her waist, the rest obscured by leaves.

She patiently sits there for a while until the usual anthem plays, I see her spring into action, still unable to see what she is doing but I see her waist moving back and forth slightly. Almost in the motion a saw makes when you slide it back and forth. A saw! She is cutting a branch. It is risky, but there isn't much she can do at this point. I am vaguely aware that no tributes died today and no pictures appear in the sky and I see her slow down and finally stop as the anthem finishes. She didn't have enough time to achieve whatever she was trying to.

My eyes travel back down the tree to where her supplies still sit and I think that I spy a small silver container, a sponsor gift. Haymitch is the one who controls the flow of gifts toward us. I have received none but I'd like to keep it that way, she deserves to survive. As she lowers herself down and sees it she looks at is curiously. I smile though as she grins and unscrews the lid on it. She dips her fingers in and a look of immediate relief washes over her face. She whispers what looks like a thank-you and scoops some ointment out of the canister. She spreads in on her calf and looks the happiest I have seen her since we entered this arena. She finishes applying it and shoves it into her bag alone with the small parachute fabric. She positions herself and reties herself and the bag to the tree and then quickly drifts off to sleep.

I try to do the same but I cannot get comfortable on the mossy log my head is resting on. I cannot tear my gaze from her so I end up just laying in my original position, my gaze trained on her. I am afraid that the second I fall asleep she is going to do something stupid, like try to escape. And so I stay awake, all night, keeping my eyes locked on her face. I take in her face, not knowing when I will have a chance to study it again, she has softer features when she sleeps, looks younger. There is a bit of dirt and grime smeared across her face and a small scratch dances its way around one eye and down her cheek. Her neck is bare and I notice her collarbone barely poking out of her jacket at the top. She is so thin, much thinner than most of the tributes. Especially any of the Careers. She must be thirty pounds lighter than any one of them. My eyes continue to travel her, taking in every detail and locking it away.

As morning approaches I see Katniss open her eyes. I look around at the other tributes unmovingly and see her checking as well. They are all still asleep. I feel her gaze train on me a moment longer than the others before she packs everything up. She begins to climb the tree again. Then she stops and turns to a tree right next to her and hisses something. I see some rustling and then a tiny dark hand point up at the nest. Rue. Katniss nods and makes a sawing motion with her hand. There is more rustling and then everything is still. That is, until a tree a bit farther off rustles, then another, then another. She is hopping from tree to tree. That is how she scored a 7 in training.

Once again, all I can see is up to her waist and she starts rocking back and forth again, and I assume she is sawing again. I see her twitch and pause but only a moment. She continues and then I see her flinch again. Then she grasps at the tree and I hear the branch tumbling down. I react before the other ones and hop up before it arrives. The nest hits the ground and explodes. Exactly like Katniss wanted, mayhem breaks loose.

The other Careers jump up, screaming. I drop everything I am holding as I feel a stabbing pain erupt on my arm. Another one stings my other arm and I already feel woozy. The world tilts under me as I frantically run, falling over my own feet.

Cato shouts out, somewhere to my left, "To the lake! To the lake!" I follow where I think his voice is coming from. I can't tell for sure though as I slam into a tree that wasn't there a minute ago. The world swells below my feet and I fee cross-eyed. My vision blurs and I barge my way through the growth, finally bursting out. I swing forward, my legs not working. I feel water immediately splash at my face. It laps around me but I wonder if it is just my imagination again. The tracker jackers continue to attack, still swarming above my head. I see the water bubble and start to rise around me, or maybe I am just lowering myself down. I turn in circles and find Clove and Cato spinning in the water. I am unable to touch the ground and I start to scramble towards shore. Then I hear the cannon. Katniss.

I push myself up and out of the water and stumble towards where I came from. I start to run but I fall, my knuckles being cut as I hit the undergrowth. My hands close on a spear that Cato was formerly adorning. He must have dropped in his frantic flight. The ground looks silver and metallic and it glows beneath me as I continue towards where I hope she is.

I enter the clearing staggering slightly. Katniss is knelt over Glimmers swollen body. There are stings everywhere and she looks unrecognizable. Whether this is real or not, I need to help Katniss. She is pulling at the sheath of arrows and fingering each one, taking it in. She yanks at the bow, stuck under Glimmer's lifeless form.

When I crash into the clearing she tries to arm herself with the bow but she looks disoriented as she fails to align the arrow with her bow, pointing it directly at me. She recognizes me and lowers her weapon a bit, much to my relief.

"What are you still doing here?" I hiss. She stares at me in confusion and I spy a sting on her neck. "Are you mad?" I prod at her slightly with the dull end of the spear I am holding. "Get up! Get up!" I command her as she slowly rises and turns ever so slightly. I hear Cato coming up behind me and start to scream at her, "Run! Run!"

Cato slashes his way to where we are and I hear his angry footfalls thudding behind me. A look of alarm crosses Katniss' face and she stands and turns and starts to run away, swaying and hitting trees. Looking much like Haymitch in the fashion she walks.

I turn around and see Cato glaring at me, sword raised. I try to back away but it comes down on my thigh, cutting deep. I shout out and fall to the ground, the world spinning still. I grab onto my leg as warm blood floods onto my hands before I black out.


	15. Chapter 15

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins again. Sorry this chapter took a while to get up! It has been hard to write about this when I know nothing about what's going on with him, because Katniss is currently with Rue. I hope you like it anyway! Thank you to everyone who has followed, added to favorites, or reviewed. If you haven't, feel free to! **

Chapter 15

I wake up again at the sound of another break through the trees. I think it is Clove. I try to sit up but I am hit in the head by the handle of Cato's sword and he shoves me to the ground. The ground is still metallic and I feel my hand moving on its out accord, doodling swirls in the damp earth. Or is it damp? Am I just imagining it again?

"You were trying to save her this whole time?" He incredulously shouts at me. "I knew it. I knew it!" I pretend to notice Clove, but find her glaring at me as well. I see the world still fading in color, as if indecisive what shade it prefers. I can't help but be reminded of Caesar, and the way he has different colored hair every year.

I am brought out of my tracker jacker enhanced thoughts by a new voice. "I told you Lover Boy wouldn't let go of his love so easily, Cato," sneers Clove. Cato doesn't seem to be in a joking mood as he jerks his head back and gives her a look that silences her joking manner immediately.

"You little…" he trails off, turning to me again. He lowers himself to one knee, so that he is completely eye level with me. I try to avoid his gaze but it is hard, he is inches away. Instead I stare down at his feet which are sinking into something purple and then I think I see a red and white snake slither its way over one shoe and beneath the other. I jump a little but try to hide it, knowing Cato will think he caused the spasm.

"I know you were trying to help her, but now that you've done this, it's going to be ten times harder for the lot of you next time we encounter either one of you." My heart sinks; I've just made it harder for her. He jams his knee into my left, injured thigh and the pain makes my vision blur and every nerve in that leg scream. That pain added to the already there pain of the tracker jackers forces me to fight the urge to shout out.

But I just look at him, "You can't just get rid of every problem you reach. I will protect her." I mean for this to come out sounding strong, but I seem to be trying to make it sound as confident as possible, and failing miserably at that small feat.

He gives me on last death glares before heading out with Clove. I notice that he pays Glimmers corpse no mind. Just one less person he will have to kill himself. I can still feel my head pounding and my leg throbbing from the injury but I find that I cannot move. I am glued down and feel like I weigh at least one hundred pounds more than I actually do. And as I try valiantly one more time to lift myself up, I fall onto my side, the injured side and that pain makes me black out again.

I have dreams full of horrors that repeat, and seem to never stop. I am home. My father was off somewhere and my brothers at school. These days were always the worst. I was so hungry so I crept downstairs and snatched a small roll of the cart. She turned on me and I was immediately cowering in the corner. I watch from above as she started to beat me, over and over and over again. I felt the wet rag whipping my skin, leaving a burning stretch everywhere it grazed. I fought back the tears but they leaked their way out of my eyes. She grabbed the rolling pin and started shouting at me. She screamed about how wretched I was, about how useless I was and that she wished I hadn't been born. The tears would flow freely and then the final blow would come, the pin on my cheek, leaving a gaping scratch on there that trailed blood down my face, onto my neck. It was common, this abuse. I was used to it but I still tried to sneak the food. My dad would allow the innocent effort at cheating out hunger but mother treated me stricter and with much less love. They arguments would end as I ran up the stairs to hide the cut. I was to clean up and say that I fell. That was what was expected of me every time.

I wake up with a slight shout and jerk up, realizing I am alone, and in the forest, not at home. I groan and lay down again. In ways, I feel relieved to be in the forest, rather than my own home. Until I remember what forest this is. I feel the pain of my dream and assume that it is just the aftermath of one of the usual nightmares. But it's worse, much worse. I lift my head and look down at my leg. The gash has ripped open my pants in the injured area and I can clearly see the wound. The sight makes me woozy. I am used to seeing the common burns at the bakery but not the actual insides. I see the cut is deep and I am guessing much worse than I can even imagine, I have no chance of winning now, all I can do is hide while I die. I try to shift my position slightly, to be more comfortable but the movement forces a terrible pain to escape my lips and I feel myself drifting away again. I try to fight it but the pain combined with exhaustion wins and I black out again.

This dream is happier and I almost don't want it to end. It is the first day of school I ever attended. My father pointed out Katniss to me. He said, "See that girl? I wanted to marry her but she ran off with a coal miner." I inquired why any girl would pass up my dad. He was the kindest man I'd ever met. "Because when he sings… even the birds stop to listen." I followed his finger over to her. That was the first time I saw her. She wore a red plaid dress and her hair was pulled into two tight braids, instead of one like she usually does now. And like my father, I knew I was a goner. My eyed trained on her as she was herded with the rest of us into the big room they held assemblies. I watched as she went and sat next to a girl I knew to be Madge. She's the mayor's daughter. I tried to work up the nerve to talk to her without success (much like the next eleven years of my life to come). The teacher asked us all who knows the valley song. I was still looking at her as her hand shot strait up. The teacher helped guide her to the front and placed her on a chair. I stared at her, in awe with everyone else, as she sang. And I swear every bird outside fell silent to listen to her voice. Even when she was done, everyone stared in a respectful silence that gave me goosebumps, even now.

I'm jerked up once again. Only, this time I am not in a cold sweat and I am not remotely happy to have woken. I gaze around me at the surroundings. How long have I been out? Is Katniss even still alive? I can barely think and the last thought I have is that I am going to have to move to some water at some point. Exhaustion overcomes me and I black out again.


	16. Chapter 16

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins for creating the books, The Hunger Games. Sorry this took me so long to update, I was so busy with Christmas and New Years! Oh and by the way, happy New Year! 2014! Yay! Thank you for following, adding to favorites, and reviewing! If you haven't, please do! Please review and tell me what you like, what you don't, or how I could improve. I'd really appreciate the feedback. Once again, sorry it took so long to update but I am going to try and get a few more chapters up before I have to go back to school. Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 16

I'm in a tunnel. The blackness surrounds me aside from the light I can spot at the very end of this mouth of inky void. I try to make my way towards the mouth but I can't feel my legs working. I fall to my knees, then down on my face. I start to drag myself, slowly. My arms do all the work and I detect the muscles in my arms start to grow weak. I was originally very well built due to the lifting I had to do constantly at the bakery. My mother never did it. My father seemed to be gone often. Ross and Adrian always tried to get out of work and me, being the youngest brother, always ended up doing the heavy lifting. After being in the arena for only a short period, I can feel my muscles already weakening.

I see the small sliver of light ahead and I push myself towards it. It is excruciatingly slow progress but it's progress nonetheless. The walls around me seem to be closing up and pressing in on me, coaxing me towards the small entrance. I finally come closer and the small amount of light is overwhelming. It blinds me but I fight it. I finally reach the miniscule exit from this darkness and I press my way though. I burst out and I undergo the feeling of falling. I land in my own body again and jerk upward, into a sitting position. I look around frantically and breathe heavily.

I am back in the silent forest. Actually, it is far from silent. There are crickets sounding and birds and all the other mysterious sounds that are unfamiliar to me. I see the world coming into a slightly more common sensed centered focus. I find that the world is no longer silvery and have a suspicion that I imagined it might have been due to the stings. It is not completely better but I can see improvement. I can still see trees wavering just slightly and bulges in the ground shrinking away from me in the more distant gatherings of trees.

I prop myself up on my elbows and I immediately find that I am not in complete control of my limbs. They have small spasms and jerk over, causing me to fall onto my back, knocking the wind out of me. I experiment and try my luck standing. This is a mistake. The pain in my left leg sends pain racking through my nerves, leading away from the cut. My legs give way and I find my head pressed against the cool earth, dirt and gravel scraping my face. In a single instant I wasn't in control and I found myself pressed against the earth.

I am going to have to move at some point. There is no way I can simply sit here, waiting for Cato and Clove to find me. Cato already did though, in my leg. I sense that he knows how bad it was, probably why they didn't just finish me off. They knew the injury would finish me off on it's own. I try to forget about my leg and attempt to get onto my hands and knees. I can barely manage placing that much weight on my left leg but I must, if I plan on being able to survive much longer. And be of any help at all to Katniss.

I am going to need water and a food source. At the thought of this, I notice that my tongue is dry and I feel parched. I don't know how many days the tracker jackers left me incapacitated but I haven't drank that whole time. I need to get myself either by the lake, or by the river. The lake is where the Careers set up camp so that seems like suicide. I will set up a makeshift camp near the river then.

I am hungry to. However long I have been lying here, is too long. Looking at the sky, it looks to be about noon. I have no way of telling how long it's been though. And how many of us are left? Is Katniss even still alive? I can't know for sure, because I have been so out of it. My heart leaps to my throat but I shove that thought away and focus on my own urgent needs that need tended to. First I will attempt to get to the river, I decide. Then I can work on finding a hiding place and looking over my wound. I need water desperately, I can barely think clearly.

I get myself into a crawling position and start towards the direction I think I heard the river earlier. The trek is proving to be much more difficult than anticipated. I am barely able to move and the hallucinations are no help at all. The noises and images that haunt me are tiring and thoroughly confusing. I see something that looks like a squirrel but then it become huge and looks like some kind of dog-like creature while starts to wail and then speak to me in Katniss' voice. It says things that I have heard before such as, "I just can't afford to think like that." And then things I have never heard her utter, "You need to get out of here. You need to get to the river." It is almost like she's here, motivating me. She wants me to live. This, of course, is completely a lie, but I imagine she is there, cheering me on. It makes the journey slightly less grim.

I am about halfway there when I cannot go on. I collapse in a heap, facing towards the sky. There are clouds floating across, the otherwise blue sky. Then I spy it: smoke. There is tons of it billowing up from one point in the woods. I force myself to get up and continue at this point. It is as if I am being reminded of the fact that I am in the Games. That people are killing each other out here. That I need to find somewhere to hide and wait for death to come, hopefully alone. I am losing any small aspiration that I will live through this experience. I wasn't planning on trying too hard, Katniss has to get out, but I was hoping I wouldn't die quite so soon. There is very little hope visible but I persevere forward anyway.

I am so lost in thought, that when I arrive at the river and see the slick rock a few feet ahead, I don't notice it. I slide a bit and scramble for a minute, before I grasp onto a root jutting out, though the eroded bluff. I look around at my surroundings, taking it in. I see the water and my thirst gets the best of me. I slide down the muddy land and find myself splashing into the weak current. Luckily, it isn't very deep. The water floods my gashed open legs and stings. I quickly lift it out of the water, resting it on a rock, an island in the center of the flow. I scoop water up with my hands and splash my face, my arms, and my chest. It cools me down and refreshes my senses. I turn around and find myself still a bit unsteady. I lean against a rock but something on it juts out, a little lower and jabs my upper leg. I let out a sharp cry and lean away. The gash on my thigh has been reopened and the blood is flowing again. I look away because the sight makes me woozy. I decide I better get myself out of the water, and into a hiding place soon. Too many people must be near here.

I look around me, searching for a potential hiding place. I don't think I can achieve the feat of climbing a tree, like Katniss, in my track jacker enhanced state so I look around the ground. I can't see any concealment in this designated area so I walk through the water. It keeps me cool in the burning sun and covers my uncoordinated movements as I flounder around, loosing control of my body in spasms. No body would be able to follow my path, hopefully, in the water. I fall into the river repeatedly, in a not so graceful manner. My mind creates terrifying hallucinations, that pop out at the weirdest times and tempt me to shout out.

I am approaching a bend in the river. At least, I think it is a bend. I might be imagining it. I try to guide my body in that direction smoothly but I feel my body thud into a large boulder and slide down. My legs are stretched out in front of me, displaying my wound clearly. It is under the water but the water is so clear. So clear that I can still see it, with it only augmented slightly. The laceration on my leg is hard to see. It is so bloody that I really can't tell how big it is. But based on the amount of gore I see, it isn't a paper cut.

I get up again and stumble. The ground starts to strain and shine, stretching out before me. The water looked like solid ground as I marched my way through. I ran into another boulder before falling onto a bank. I looked around me. This time, I have no faith that I will be able to right myself. This would make an all right place to hide. Because it was around the corner of the river, it was just barely out of that line of vision. It was shaded here, where I am sitting, I think. I peer around me and only just then realize it was getting darker. Or maybe I'm imagining it.

Suddenly I see smoke billowing in the distance, again. I start to worry. This one was a bit close to me but still quite distant. Then I hear it. It sounds like an explosion. I fall over as a slight wave of impact washed over me. The collision with the ground shoots pain through my leg. The sound is deafening. The air is thinner and makes me gasp a bit. I don't understand, how could there be an explosion in the arena?


	17. Chapter 17

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins. She created the characters, the plot, and The Hunger Games. Thank you to everyone who has followed, reviewed, and added to favorites! Please follow, favorite, and review if you haven't. I really appreciate anyone who has done anything! Sorry I have been doing so badly with updates but I have been really busy. Just so you all have a set date, I will be uploading one at least every Sunday. I might do more but I will shoot for that at least. And lastly, sorry this is so short. (In the book, Katniss is exploding the Careers stuff so there is no hint towards what Peeta may be doing at this point…) Okay, I am done saying random stuff, you probably aren't even reading… But anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 17

I wake up on a bank, plastered with sweat and mud. I am disoriented and momentarily, have no idea where I am or how I got here. I have been passing out too often lately. Every time I am out, I worry. Katniss could be dead or in danger. Once she is dead, I have nothing to live for. She's the only hope keeping me going at this point.

I need to hide myself. I look around myself at my surroundings. There are dark trees behind me. I have no idea what is in there so I decide I will avoid that. In front of me is the expanse of the river. I don't know how to swim and the river only provides so much protection. Plus, the nights have been cold and I will need to sleep at some point, better not be covered in water. All around me is the muddy bank. There are vines and other types of weeds weaving their way through the textured ground. Different colored mud adorning the shore. Suddenly, I get an idea. Camouflage.

I find a position that I can lie in, without causing pain and dig a small hole, the length of my body but only a few inches deep. I shovel the mud out and it sloshes into a pile next to me. I lightly lower myself into the hole, using only my hands because my legs still ache with pain. I try to be quiet but I am sure a few groans escaped me. As I lower myself, pain tingles along my leg, in lines away from the immediate injury. I first cover my legs in mud. I mix and swirl it around in patterns. Doing this soothes me. When I was back home in District 12, I frosted the cakes. I would paint flowers and images, only I saw from my spot on the roof. Sometimes, I saw Katniss and her sister spying my cakes. It made me feel notices, like something I did might affect other people. Rather than me just being another person that could die unnoticed. When they came, my mom would yell at them, and tell them that if they couldn't pay, they couldn't stay. Sometimes I would protest towards her. Sometimes I would tell her there is no harm in them looking. But then she would hit me and she would say things. Things about Katniss. Things about me. Things about my father and the way he raised me. She hated Katniss. I think it was just because she knew my dad had loved her mother, more than he loved her. And I am pretty sure my family had suspicions on my feelings too, due to the fact that I took numerous beatings on her account. I defended her so I was beaten. I said something about her so I was beaten. I looked at her and I was beaten.

I continue my therapeutic dyeing. I start with my bottom half and mold mud and undergrowth onto my legs. My fingers delicately place plants and stones in the murky mixture I've created. I try to imitate the way the growth looked before I landed here but I am unfamiliar to this territory. I am sure somebody, like Katniss, could tell this was man-made. Though mud, plants, and water, are no comparison to the dyes, and frostings I had to work with on cakes, I still found myself having some sort of enjoyment. At least, as much happiness as one can have when they know people are trying to kill them. I am sure the Capitol people are watching some fight somewhere because really, who is going to be watching some teenage boy paint himself with mud for hours. I try to keep my mind on the camouflage but every now and then, Katniss creeps her way back into my thoughts, a constant companion that isn't really there. I lean back and continue the process of invisibility. I cover myself, in the muddy substance, until it is up to my neck. At this point, I rest my head against the cool, slick ground. I blend it so my head hopefully just looks like a lump in the ground. Then I proceed to cover it in mud, then dirt, so it stays. I feel it drying and try not to move. The drier, it gets, the more rigid I feel, the more camouflage I'll be. The bottom half of me is still wet from the river so I have no worries about that but I do feel visible. Just a bit too visible. I know most people would pass by me, assuming nobody would try and hide on the ground. I try to calm down and relax, so that I can focus on being unseen.

But then, I hear a cannon. Immediately, panic shoots through me. It could be Katniss. Every time the cannon goes off I worry for her. Every second I am in here, I worry for her. I won't know until tonight but my stomach still ties itself into triple knots and I think I am going to be sick. Only seconds after, another cannon goes off. I resist the urge to burst from my hiding place and find her. I would be no help to her, so it is best to just stay put. So they either killed each other or the Careers have ambushed her, like they were attempting all along. I think she might have been with somebody. I hope she is with somebody. If she is still alive.


	18. Chapter 18

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins. Wish I could say it's mine! But I can't. Thank you to everyone who has followed, added to favorites, or reviewed! If you haven't, please do! And if you didn't see on my last chapter, I will be posting one chapter every Sunday at the very least. Sorry this chapter is so short but I uploaded two today to make up for it! Hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 18

A cannon. Another cannon. Katniss. These thoughts rush around in my head, forcing me to stress. I could explode with worry with all the tension building. But I can't move due to my position. My legs are cramping up and I am sure that I am unable to move them, or my arms, for that matter. I am frantic, in a way I have never been before. The chances of it being her are scarily high. There are getting to be a fewer amount of us so the chances of people who are not Careers are increasing.

Due to the fact that my body is immobile and I'm buried under a thick layer of mud, I have nothing to do but think. It's just me and my thoughts enduring some quality time. I decide I will try and sleep, assuming I won't for too long. My eyelids drift closed and I am as oblivious to the outside world as it is to me in my hiding spot.

I wake up the sound of a branch snapping. It pops and I my eyes flash open. The sound came from across the riverbank. Then I hear their voices. "Stupid Katniss. And that girl, Rue. It had to have been them," that's Cloves voice. I stiffen more than I already am and strain my ears, begging to hear every word.

"It's just us now then. The two of us." Cato's voice sends chills down my spine and the memory of the pain the blade caused forces me eyes to shut as I grimace in pain.

Once it subsides, I hear more sounds. The pounding of feet comes closer; they must be directly across from me now by the river. I hear Clove complaining, "We shouldn't have left him in charge. I told you we couldn't trust anyone other than –"

Her voice is cut off by Cato's harsh tone. By the sound of it, he isn't happy. "It's that Katniss girl. I heard two cannon though. I just hope one of them was hers." I flinch and shut my eyes tighter. The way he says it, it makes me sick. He says it like those words would have no lasting effect on me.

Cloves voice cuts through to me and I hear her say, "Or maybe it was Lover Boy. I am surprised he isn't dead yet. He should be."

Cato smirks and the sound is diminished when I hear a large splash. I am assuming that they are crossing, or walking in the stream now, to hide their tracks, in the way I attempted. I hear another splash and then some more, quieter movements of water. It is quiet for a moment other than those soft splashes. Then it all stops. I sense they are close but I resist the urge to look, for it would immediately give away my location.

"Somebody has been here," Cato murmurs. My heart stops and I hold my breath, not daring to breath out. If he only knew that he's at least two paces away from standing right on top of me.

"Come on, Cato. Anyone who was here must've run away when they heard us," Clove nags him. I can picture her yanking on his shirt, trying to turn his heavy frame, and failing.

It is quiet a moment longer, as if they are contemplating this. Then, much to my relief, I hear their voices fade as they get fainter and I assume they are leaving. I finally breathe out the air inside me I didn't know I had been holding so long. I begin gulping air and cautiously open my eyes, searching for any sign that they are still here. I don't find any and open my eyes comfortably, widely.

As nightfall comes I feel my heart beating faster. I've been pretending not to be worried. I've been busying myself with other miscellaneous thought, fighting to divert my mind off on her. I patiently wait as the sky darkens. It is pitch black and I can practically hear my pulse in my head. The anthem plays and I fight the urge to jump out of hiding and yell at the Capitol. To just tell me if she's alive or not. I just want to know. They start with District 1, Marvel. I didn't know him well, and I didn't really want to. But I still feel the slight pang every time I hear anybody is dead. I hold my breath and shut my eyes, barely daring to see the next face. I know two people died today, because I heard two cannons. So one more person to go. I open my eyes and I see a sudden flash of Rue's face, the young girl from District 11. I try to fight off the tears but I feel a few squeeze their way out. Relief and sadness wash over me. But mostly relief, due to the exciting news that Katniss is alive. She is alive and well as far as I know. That's what I will myself to believe.

Claudius Templesmith's voice enters the arena, shattering the unnatural silence. "Congratulations. Those of you listening to this are the last six in the Games." He pauses a moment and I think that might be all, generally they let the tributes know when few are left. "There's been a rule change in the Games," though it was already silent, it is even heavier now. "Both tributes from the same district will be declared winners if they are the last to alive." I try to process this information but I am unable to. I am still trying to understand that Katniss is alive. As Claudius repeats himself, it clicks in my mind. Katniss. Me. District 12. Right as I think I have understood it, there is some static and then nature's silence befalls us like a deafening blanket. That would only benefit me and Katniss, and Clove and Cato. The boy from 11 is alone, now that little Rue is gone. And that redheaded girl from District 5. I think the boy from her district died when the Careers decided they had no more use of him, and his life was short-lived.

I am so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don't pay attention to my surroundings. Then I think I hear something, but it might still be aftermath of the tracker jackers. I hear Katniss, only more real, and she says, "Peeta!" It's immediately cut of and I strain my ears to hear more but all they pick up is utter and complete silence.


	19. Chapter 19

**I take no credit for this! It all goes to Suzanne Collins. The story, the character, and all dialogue. Wish I could say I own it though. This was probably the most fun chapter to write! It is finally some plot I can work with. I wasn't quite sure what to write about for all the time Katniss was with Rue. Thank you to everyone who has followed, added to favorites, or reviewed. If you have not, feel free to. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 19

After I hear the voice, I am almost positive I imagined it, but I still wanted to believe it was Katniss. I don't want to team up with her. I'd only drag her down. She would have a better chance of surviving if she just left me here. As much as I want to see her, it wouldn't help.

I see a figure near the rocks, moving down the stream. I am not positive who it is so I stay silent and unmoving. Until I hear her voice, "Peeta! Peeta!" A mockingjay starts to imitate her urgent whispers and she stops. She starts to move to the edge of the river and she lifts up, as if about to get out.

"You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" I say.

She jumps and turns around, splashing around the current. I resist the urge to laugh at the confused look on her face. She looks down, almost directly at my hiding place in the mud and undergrowth. I close my eyes so I am completely invisible.

"Peeta?" She whispers, "Where are you?" I don't answer, waiting for her to find me. I can practically feel her gaze probing the bank I am hidden in, "Peeta?"

I hear the water moving and adjusting to the new form, moving against it. I can sense her presence getting closer and closer to where I am. When she is about to step on me I say, "Well, don't step on me."

She jumps and looks down at me. I open my eyes and see her face. She gasps and stares. My mouth opens and reveals my teeth and I laugh at her shocked expression.

After staring at me for a long moment she commands, "Close your eyes again." I comply and feel her studying me. I open back my eyes and find her gaze moving up and down my arms, which are covered in mud and weeds. She kneels in the mud, "I guess all those hours of decorating cakes paid off."

I smirk at her effort at lightening the mood, "Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying." I see her give me a quick smile but then goes back to glaring at me. I study the face that has been in my dreams and hallucinations for the last few days, even covered in mud and what I suppose to be dried blood, she looks beautiful.

"You're not going to die," She seems to be convincing herself of that, more than me. I sigh and look down but then draw my gaze back up.

"Says who?" I question her.

"Says me. We're on the same team now, you know," she explains. I am still a bit surprised that she actually seeked me out. She shouldn't have.

"So, I heard." I sarcastically add, "Nice of you to come find what's left of me."

She pulls out a bottle of water and coaxes the liquid down my throat, "Did Cato cut you?" I try not to gag on the water. I haven't drank in days. I should be extremely thirsty but it just makes me sick.

I wince as I remember the glint of the sword and the crazed, angry look in Cato's eyes. I respond, hesitantly, "Left leg. Up high."

She seems to be contemplating something and then states, "Let's get you in the stream, wash you off so I can see what kind of wounds you've got."

I decide it is too tense and need to break the ice. "Lean down a minute first," I say, "Need to tell you something." She leans into me and I feel jitters in my stomach, but try to hide them. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it," I whisper. She will, of course, just assume that I am joking. But how much I'd like it to be real.

She jerks back but ends up laughing a bit and I notice the dimples in the side of her cheek and the way her eyes light up. I feel good that I caused that, even if only for a moment. Between laughter she's able to say, "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."

She decides to start trying to move me to the stream, which is only a few feet away, and I hope I can try to stay silent and not let the pain show. I haven't moved in about three days so I pretend that I can move, to make it easier for her, but it becomes pretty obvious that it won't be an option for me to get up and walk away unscathed. She grabs on to my mud covered hands and tries to drag me and I try not to resist but the pulling makes the constant pain in my leg flare up and sharp cries escape my mouth, whether I try to muffle them or not. I see her flinch as I make these sounds and she stops. She tries one more heave and I cry out, and tears leak out the sides of my eyes. I try to hide them but when she looks at me, a look of pain crosses her face. She spies the tears and has to stop.

"Look, Peeta, I'm going to roll you into the stream." She says, as gentle and kindly as possible. I think she sees a look of terror cross my face so she adds, "It's very shallow here, okay?"

"Excellent," I say, trying to keep the nervous jitters inside of me out of my voice.

She crouches on the side of me opposite the water and lays her light hands on my side. I get a tingling sensation where she touches me but I hid my excitement. "On three," she takes a deep breath, "One, two, three!" As she heaves me toward the water, an agonized wail emits from me, despite my earnest efforts against it. Katniss puts on a brave face but I see I falter and she has to stop.

She looks down at me sadly, "Okay, change of plans. I'm not going to put you all the way in," She tells me, and I sigh, relieved.

"No more rolling?" I clarify.

"That's all done. Let's get you cleaned up. Keep an eye on the woods for me, okay?" She looks up and down my body and I notice that I am so caked in blood, mud, and leaves; you cannot even see my clothes.

Katniss turns and pulls out three water containers. I don't even have one. She leans them against a rock, outside my lane of vision but I assume it is filling with water. She pours the cool stream on my crippled form. At first, she gently brushes off the big sections but she soon realizes that it won't due and starts scrubbing at me madly. I try not to show any enjoyment at her touch, but I am sure I fail at certain instances.

As she gets deeper and deeper through my barrier, I see a relieved look cross over her when she finds my dirty layer of clothes. I can't help but smirk at her discomfort. She unzips my jacket gently and pulls it off my bruised shoulders. This doesn't hurt very much due to the fact that my bottom half is the injured part and it screaming with pain. She unbuttons my shirt and pulls it off as well. Then all that is left is the soiled white undershirt, which she ends up just cutting away at. She has to remove it due to the way it is plastered to all my wounds. I am sitting here, with no upper clothing on. I feel slightly self-conscious as she studies me. I look down at it myself, and I see the burn on my chest and four tracker jacker stings. She looks a bit reassured, and decides to take care of this first, before moving any lower.

She moves me out of the puddle she's created and props me against a rather large boulder. She dumps a bit more water on me and runs her hands through my hair and rinses any remaining dirt from it. While she is preoccupied with my hair I study her. She gets this look while she is working, much like the one I have seen when she is hunting. She catches me staring and gives me a puzzled look but continues. She has to dig the stingers out of the lumps the tracker jackers left and I make an effort not to recoil from the twinges of pain. The irritation is immediately relieved as she presses some chewed up leaves on them that literally suck the discomfort from my stings.

She leaves me momentarily to dry in the sun and starts to clean my shirt and jacket in the water, beating the dirt from them in the current. After that, he smoothes some cream on my chest; I think it is the same one that she received as a sponsor gift the night the Careers and I had her treed. The way she looked when applying it did not exaggerate how relieving it feels. Her hands feel cool against my bare skin and she seems by that detail. I watch as she kneels down beside me and digs through something that looks like a first aid kit. She pulls out two pills that look small and white. I think my mother had a few hiding in our house somewhere, though my mother rarely let any of the children use them. I think they are for fevers.

"Swallow these," she hands them to me and watches as I obediently follow directions. "You must be hungry." Her brow furrows at me when I shake my head.

"Not really. It's funny, I haven't been hungry for days," I say. She ignores me and offers me some kinds of meat but I wrinkle my nose in disgust and turn away. The mere thought of food makes me sick.

When I turn back she has a worried expression on her face. "Peeta, we need to get some food in you."

"It'll just come right back up," I explain, trying not to disgust her too much by the gory details. But, for her sake, I give in and eat a bit of dried fruit that she offers and she looks pleased. "Thanks. I'm much better, really. Can I sleep now, Katniss?" Exhaustion is overwhelming me, though all I've done is sit here while she doctors my injuries.

"Soon," she promises, "I need to look at you leg first." She lightly removes my shoes and socks and then somewhat hesitantly inches my pants off. I try not to grimaces as it slides over the wound. When my pants are off I study her reaction, trying to see how bad it is. I am expecting very bad. There is swollen part of my leg is still seeping out pus and blood. The smell is ripened, now that it's revealed.

"Pretty awful, huh?" I try to make her feel better admitting it myself.

She plasters a forced calm on her face and responds, "So-so." She shrugs and I see her forced effort at comfort. "You should see some of the people they bring to my mother from the mines." She seems to be convincing herself more than me. I have seen her flee the house when people arrived. She doesn't mention this and I decide not to bring it up either. That would require an explanation as to why I was watching her house, which I am not quite ready to give yet. "First thing is to clean it well."

I notice she left on my undershorts but decide not to comment on that either. She doesn't seem to be too keen on the idea of me sitting, completely naked, in front of her. So I don't press the matter. Why should I, if there is no reason and she doesn't want to?

She scoots a sheet of plastic under me and rinses me down more. She seems hopeful this will help but despair creeps onto her face as she takes in the wound sharper and with clearer details. She first treats the minor burns and the tracker jacker sting, avoiding the obvious gash.

"Why don't we give it some air and then…" She trails off, looking absolutely lost.

I offer up my opinion, "And then you'll patch it up?"

She looks grateful, "That's right. In the meantime, you eat these." She gives me more dried fruit, which I slowly eat.

She washes the rest of my clothes and starts to examine the first aid kit.

"We're going to have to experiment some," she shyly says. She chews up some leaves and presses them to the cut. Pus is immediately flowing out of it, abundantly and she looks at it skeptically with disgust.

"Katniss?" I say. She looks up at me, worried. I mouth the words, "How about that kiss?"

She burst out laughing, reacting the way I'd hoped. The laugh has a hint of hysteria at the irony of the situation. She is, after all, cleaning pus and other things off of my legs while I am as close too naked as I could be.

I innocently ask, "Something wrong?"

"I…I'm no good at this. I'm not my mother. I've no idea what I am doing and I hat pus!" She stutters, "Euh!" She groans as she washes away the leaves and applies more, "Euuuh!"

I look at her quizzically, "How do you hunt?"

"Trust me. Killing things is much easier than this," she continues, "Although for all I know, I am killing you." She looks away shamefully.

I jokingly ask, "Can you speed it up a little?"

She snorts, "No. Shut up and eat your pears."

I do, as I watch her drain tons of pus out of my leg and the wound does look slightly better. The swelling has gone down, but now you can see how deep it is. She looks down at it, worried.

"What next, Dr. Everdeen?" I ask.

"Maybe I'll put some of the burn ointment on it. I think it helps with infection anyway. And wrap it up?" She says. She lathers it on and then applies a white bandage. She looks down at it and then throws me a backpack. "Here, cover yourself up with this and I'll wash your shorts."

I don't really need it and reply, "Oh, I don't care if you see me."

She looks uncomfortable. "You're just like my family," she groans. "I care, all right?" She turns her back to me and faces the stream. I remove my shorts and throw them into the water upstream from her so they float down in front of her. I cover up with the backpack for her sake.

"You know, you're kind of squeamish for such a lethal person," I say. She beats my shorts with two rocks. "I wish I'd let you give Haymitch a shower after all."

She turns back and wrinkles her nose at me. She looks so cute when she does that. "What's he sent you so far?"

"Not a thing." I pause, "Why, did you get something?"

"Burn medicine," she sheepishly says, "Oh, and some bread."

"I always knew you were his favorite," I joke.

"Please, he can't stand being in the same room as me," she retorts.

"Because you're so alike," I mutter. I see her ignore me on purpose and silently hope I didn't offend you.

In the warm sun I start to doze off and thankfully, she lets me. I wake up when Katniss shakes my shoulder and suddenly feel slightly awkward that I just fell asleep, completely naked with nothing but this small backpack covering me.

I grip at it and she says, "Peeta, we've got to go now."

I look at her confused. "Go? Go where?" I have always just slept in the forest. Now that I think about that, it probably isn't safe with the Careers no longer on my side.

"Away from here. Downstream maybe. Somewhere we can hide you until you're stronger. She hands me my shorts and patiently turns as I pull them on. She helps me dress the rest of the way. After I am fully clothed, she helps pull me uprights and I feel my face flush, and my vision goes a bit black. "Come one. You can do this," she encourages me.

I try for as far as I can muster but once we've made it about fifty yards, I can't see anything. My vision is covered in blotches of black and white glares. She sits me down on the bank and places my head between my legs, trying to get blood flowing to it. She pulls me back up and guides me, but more carries me, into some rocks, which form something cave-like. We slouch once we enter it and I feel myself starting to shiver. It feels freezing, though only moments we were in the blazing sun. Katniss looks at me worried.

I watch her as she spreads pine needles across the floor and then pulls a thin sleeping bag out of the backpack and spread it out. She tucks me in and I hope she can't feel my heartbeat quicken with her touch. I gaze at her as she turns around and methodically weaves branches and leaves into a green wall that looks unbelievable to me but Katniss tears it down in exasperation. It obviously didn't seem as incredible to her.

"Katniss," I say. She turns toward me and touches my face delicately. She brushes the hair from my face and I feel the skin tingle where her hand or wrist brushes it. I gulp and continue, "Thanks for finding me."

"You would have found me if you could," she says. If I weren't injured I would, but I know I am not helping. She places her hand on my forehead and a concerned face replaces the kind one. She suddenly looks scared.

"Yes. Look, if I don't make it back – " I start. She needs to know I probably won't.

"Don't talk like that. I didn't drain all the pus for nothing," she says, jokingly. Yet behind that it is still serious.

"I know. But just in case I don't – " I try again.

"No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it," she murmurs, placing a cool finger on my lips. I am silenced but it.

I try one more time, "But I – "

Suddenly her smooth lips are pressed on mine. Her lips are gentle and though in the back of my mind I can't help but think that her and Gale probably did this all the time. Yet she is still tentative and shy almost. She pulls back with her brow furrowed. "You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?"

I am dumbstruck staring at her as I barely whisper, "All right."

She gets up and walks out of the cave leaving me alone. I stare after her. The girl of my dreams just kissed me. I have been kissed before, sure. But I never really loved any of them. They were foolish childhood kisses or one of the random girls at school who did it just to say they did on a dare. I had never felt like that. I wonder if it felt the same for her.

Whatever Katniss gave me in those pills, it makes me tired and I find myself falling asleep again with thoughts of her spinning in my head. I hear her call my name but it sounds so far away. I wake up with her lips pressing against mine and I am sure I jump a bit. I smile and stare at her and feel like I could stare at that face forever, lined by wavy curls of rich dark hair.

She holds up the pot, "Peeta, look what Haymitch has sent you."


	20. Chapter 20

**All credit goes to Suzanne Collins, again. Thank you all my followers and reviewers! If you haven't already, please do! I love feedback. Sorry this chapter is getting up kind of late, but it's still Sunday, right? And I don't have school tomorrow! Yay! Well anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I am fairly proud of it.**

Chapter 20

Katniss scoops the warm soup broth into my mouth. She is practically begging me and ends up just kissing me. I have suspicion that she is just kissing me only so I will drink the soup but I don't complain, and it works. After a very long time of coaxing the warm broth down my throat, I finally finish it. I am betting the viewers are having a ball watching us. After a while I feel my eyelids drooping and I fall asleep.

As dreams fill my head I peacefully lay. I can still sense myself in the cave and I vaguely notice Katniss slide into the sleeping bag with me. She feels my face and then I feel something cool on my head. Before anything else happens I am made completely unaware as I drop deeper into my sleep.

I dream of the Games. They are miserable. Katniss never comes to find me. I am lying on the bank, still as stone. Animals climb over me and, eventually, I am practically part of nature. Everything I formerly was worried about seems to disappear. Not to matter. Things grow around me and the animals treat me like I am nothing more than an oddly shaped rock. After the calm I feel aware that I am forgetting something and then I remember her. I try to open my eyes and try to get up. But the world has claimed me and I am unable to fight my way out. I am going to be stuck forever, it seems.

After a struggle, I finally force my eyes open and I am back in the cave. I look around for her, just to make sure the dream really is gone but I can't find her. Suddenly I am terrified. I know she really only started taking a notice to me yesterday but for some reason, I am still unable to let anything go.

As I struggle to get up and search for her she walks through the small entrance of the cave. I look up at her and relief washes over me. "I woke up and you were gone," I say, "I was worried about you."

She laughs and it rings through the cave walls. She looks unconvinced that anyone would worry over her, "You were worried about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?" She has a point; I can barely stand.

"I thought Cato and Clove might have found you. They like to hunt at night." I say, dismissing her joking tone.

"Clove? Which one is that?" she asks.

"The girl from District 2. She's still alive, right?" I clarify.

"Yes, there's just them and us and Thresh and Foxface," she says. Immediately I wonder who Foxface is and as if she read my thoughts she answers, "That's what I nicknamed the girl from 5. How do you feel?"

"Better, than yesterday. This is an enormous improvement over the mud. Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag…" I nervously add, "… and you."

She reaches towards my face and I catch her hand like I have seen couples do in the Seam. I press her fingers to my lips and I see a sort of pleased shock cross her face.

She looks regretful as she lightly pulls her hand away. "No more kisses for you until you've eaten," she says. She helpfully props me against the wall and I start to eat some mushy berries I think she just prepared. She offers me the groosling as she calls it but I refuse it again.

I notice the bags under her eyes and her slow movements that hint at sleeplessness. "You didn't sleep," I observe.

She tries to object, "I'm all right." But I can tell she isn't.

"Sleep now. I'll keep watch. I'll wake you if anything happens," I say. She looks hesitant and I make another effort, "Katniss, you can't stay up forever." She knows this is true and I see her give in slightly.

"All right," she mutters and I smile. "But just for a few hours. Then you wake me." I nod at her and watch as she organizes her bow and sheath next to the makeshift bed we've made.

She lies down and I train my eyes on hers. I lean against the wall and see her gazing back at me intently. "Go to sleep," I whisper gently and use my fingertips to softly brush hair off her forehead. She keeps her eyes on mine. She doesn't look uncomfortable and annoyed like she does with too much physical touch. So I continue it, moving to her hair, which is soft. I have always wanted to touch that braid of hers. My fingers graze it and softly until she falls asleep and then I lift my fingers off her face smoothly.

I stare at her and study her face. She breathes in and out through her mouth and I take in every detail. The way that she lays on her side, one hand placed under her cheek. The way that she knits her eyebrows together just barely as she sleeps. I continue in this manner for the next hours, which only seems like moments. Her eyelids flutter open and she lurches up. "Peeta, you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours," she complains, though she looks much better.

"For what? Nothing's going on here. Besides, I like watching you sleep," I confess. "You don't scowl. Improves your looks a lot." At this she scowls and I grin at her reaction. That is exactly what I expected of her.

She raises her hand to my cheek, which makes me shiver slightly. "Peeta. You were supposed to drink water." She scolds me.

"I did!" I say, though I didn't tear my eyes away from her for a moment.

She seems unconvinced and forces me to drink two quarts of water before directing her attention to my injuries. She reapplies some leaves to my stings and smoothes on ointment to my burns. She sits there idly but only momentarily until she seems to convince herself that it is necessary to unwrap my leg.

Her hands gently peel away the bandage and I see her brow furrow deeper as she pulls more of it off. Her mouth opens a bit as she looks at it. It is swollen and inflamed. The flesh is pale and shiny, and looks stretch thin. There are smalls red streaks, running away from the cut. I am no doctor but I can tell this is bad, very bad.

"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," she says softly, her voice shaking.

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," I say, "Even if my mother isn't a healer."

"You're just going to have to outlast the other, Peeta. They'll cure it back at the Capitol when we win," she insists, more confidently this time.

"Yes, that a good plan," I don't say it for me, but for her. I think it will make her feel better.

"You have to eat. Keep your strength up. I'm going to make you soup," Katniss says.

Suddenly I picture her cooking me a meal over a fire spewing smoke. I see the Careers burst out of the woods And I block out the rest. Suddenly I burst out, "Don't light a fire, it's not worth it."

"We'll see," she says. She walks out of the cave and I watch the back of her as she bends over and starts to leave. She wiggles her way out of our makeshift wall. The last thing I see is her black pants disappearing.

I silently wait for her and hear a bit of sound as she gathering something that sounds like the pounding off rocks. I look around our little cave and suddenly the feeling of how grateful I truly am overwhelms me. She didn't have to come find me. She didn't have to come save me. It was optional to work with your partner to win, but she chose to do it anyway even though we both know I am no help at all.

I can feel myself improving very little but as she enters, I try to put on a brave face. She places a cool piece of cloth on my forehead, in an effort to cool it off. But by the look on her face, it doesn't help much. "Do you want anything?" she asks.

"No," I say. "Thank you." I sit there and think about it for a moment. "Wait, yes. Tell me a story."

She looks slightly confused at my request. "A story? What about?"

"Something happy. Tell me about the happiest day you can remember," I say, hoping I can help lighten the mood. And give the viewers something happy to listen to. It would be quite refreshing, for both them and me. She sighs and I laugh a bit at her. I can see her racking her brain, thinking of a single happy memory. It is kind of sad how hard it is for her. Then again, what is the last happy memory I can remember?

Suddenly I see her face light up. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got Prim's goat?" I shake my head, of course not. We barely talked before this, but I don't mention that. She seems to be picking her words purposefully. "I sold an old silver locket of my mother's." Based on the look in her eyes, I can see that she is lying. She probably got the money hunting, like she always did. But that wouldn't play well in the Capitol. "Gale and I went to the market on the square so that I could buy dress materials. As I was running my fingers over a length of thick blue cotton cloth, something caught my eye."

I smile at the way she weaves her words into a story and her eyes glow as she recounts the details. I, of course, being from her district, know some but I am sure the audience will be confused. "There's an old man who keeps a small herd of goats on the other side of the Seam. I don't know his real name, everyone just calls him the Goat Man." I know him; I remember hearing her call him that on one of her excursions with Gale. "His joints are swollen and twisted in painful angles, and he's got a hacking cough that proves he spent years in the mines. But he's lucky. Somewhere along the way he saved up enough for these goats and now has something to do in his old age besides slowly starve to death. He's filthy and impatient, but the goats are clean and their milk is rich if you can afford it. One of the goats, a white one with black patches, was lying down in a cart. It was easy to see why. Something, probably a dog, had mauled her shoulder and infection had set in. It was bad, the Goat Man had to hold her up to milk her. But I thought I knew someone who could fix it.

" 'Gale,' I whispered. 'I want that goat for Prim.' Owning a nanny goat can change your life in District 12. The animals can live off almost anything, the Meadow's a perfect feeding place, and they can give four quarts of milk a day. To drink, to make into cheese, to sell. It's not even against the law. 'She's hurt pretty bad,' said Gale. 'We better take a closer look.' We went over and bought a cup of milk to share, then stood over the goat as if idly curious.

"After some bickering between Gale and the man, Rooba showed up. She had apparently had a former deal with the Goat Man. I guess she was going to buy it for meat but when she saw that I wanted it, she let it be sold to me.

"The Goat Man was mad, but he still wanted that goal off his hands. It took us half an hour to agree on the price. Quite a crowd had gathered by then to hand out opinions. It was an excellent deal if the goat lived; I'd been robbed if she died. People took sides in the argument, but I took the goat.

"Gale offered to carry her. I think he wanted to see the look on Prim's face as much as I did. In a moment of complete giddiness, I bought a pink ribbon and tied it around her neck. Then we hurried back to my house.

"You should have seen Prim's reaction when we walked in with that goat. Remember this is a girl who wept to save that awful old cat, Buttercup. She was so excited she started crying and laughing all at once. My mother was less sure, seeing the injury, but the pair of them went to work on it, grinding up herbs and coaxing brews down the animal's throat." She smiles happily.

"They sound like you," says Peeta. She jumps a little when I speak and I laugh at her shock.

"Oh, no, Peeta. They work like magic. That thing couldn't have died if it tried. She suddenly stops and bites her bottom lip and looks away.

I try to comfort her by saying, "Don't worry. I'm not trying. Finish the story."

"Well, that's it. Only I remember that night, Prim insisted on sleeping with lady on a blanket next to the fire. And just before they drifted off, the goat licked her cheek, like it was giving her a goodnight kiss or something," she says. "It was already mad about her."

I try to picture it. "Was it still wearing the pink ribbon?" I inquire.

"I think so," she says. "Why?"

"I'm just trying to get a picture," I say thoughtfully. I can see it: Prim happy, by the fire, Katniss watching from somewhere across the room. "I can see why that day made you happy."

"Well, I knew that goat would be a little gold mine," she replies.

I laugh at her dimwittedness. "Yes, of course I was referring to that, not the lasting joy you gave the sister you love so much you took her place in the reaping," I mutter.

"The goat has paid for itself. Several times over," she says.

"Well, it wouldn't dare do anything else after you saved its life," I say. I think a moment more, "I intend to do the same thing."

"Really? What did you cost me again?" she asks wryly.

"A lot of trouble. Don't worry. You'll get it all back," I say.

"You're not making sense," she says, placing her hand on my head again. A worried look replaces the humored one, "You're a little cooler though." I can tell she is lying again, due to the worried look I see her trying to hide.

The anthem interrupts her and she rushes to the doorway, staring up into the sky. I hear Claudius Templesmith invite all the tributes to the usual feast. Once it gets down to the last few people, they form a feast of some sort, which usually draws in the straggling tributes. As Katniss waves her hand away, it's like he can see her, in fact he can, now that I think about it. "Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately."

I see her eyes glow with the sly look she gets when she has a plan. I know what we need, something to heal my leg. But she can't go. It will be a bloodbath, and I know she could probably die. He continues, "Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."

I slowly ease myself up and walk behind Katniss at the mouth of the cave, "No. You're not risking your life for me."

She looks at me, a little to innocently, "Who said I was?"

I gaze at her suspiciously, "So, you're not going?"

"Of course, I'm not going. Give me some credit. Do you think I'm running start into some free-for-all against Cato and Clove and Thresh? Don't be stupid." She ushers me back to the bed and I sigh. Thankfully, she has some sort of mind. She won't go, though I am not solely convinced yet. "I'll let them fight it out, we'll see who's in the sky tomorrow night and work out a plan from there."

"You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." I start to use my best Katniss-impression voice, "I knew that goat would be a little gold mine. You're a little cooler though. Of course I'm not going." I shake my head at her. "Never gamble at cards. You'll lose your last coin."

She glares at me, and whisper-shouts, "All right, I am going, and you can't stop me!"

"I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I'm yelling your name, I bet someone can find me. And then I'll be dead for sure," I retort.

You won't get a hundred yards from here on that leg," she says.

"Then I'll drag myself," I say, "You go and I'm going, too."

She looks at me, knowing that is exactly something I'd do. She looks at me sadly, "What am I supposed to do? Sit here and watch you die?"

"I won't die. I promise. If you promise not to go," I say. She knows this is in no way in my control.

She snaps at me, "Then you have to do what I say. Drink your water, wake me when I tell you, and eat every bite of soup no matter how disgusting it is."

I sigh at this compromise. "Agreed. Is it ready?"

"Wait here," she says. She leaves the cave again and looks both ways before exiting the cave. I gaze after her expectantly. After only a few moments, she enters again, and insistently feeds me the stew. I willingly eat it and it is actually the best meal I've had since I entered the arena. I ramble on and one, saying things like, "This soup is delicious!" She rolls her eyes at me as I slip into an incoherent sleep.

My eyes flit open as she shakes my shoulder lightly, in an effort to wake me. "I've brought you a treat. I found a new patch of berries a little farther downstream." I open my mouth immediately, as she hurriedly shovels the berry mixture into my mouth.

The taste is familiar, though there is no possibility that I have ever tried these foreign berries. "They're very sweet," I observe aloud.

She dismisses my comment, "Yes, they're sugar berries. My mother makes jam from them. Haven't you ever had them before?" She force-feeds me another bittersweet bite.

"No," I say. I voice my thoughts, "But they taste familiar. Sugar berries?"

"Well, you can't get them in the market, they only grow wild," she says as she places more of the mixture into my mouth.

"They're sweet as syrup," I think about it. "Syrup," I repeat. Suddenly I realize it. She has given me sleep syrup. I try to spit it out. She is going to leave the second I close my eyes. I fight her as she covers my mouth and looks into my eyes deeply, apologetically. I try to resist it but I eventually cannot fight it any longer and I feel my eyelids drop closed. She can't be doing this.

I fall asleep but I am barely coherent enough to hear her say smugly, "Who can't lie, Peeta?" She brushes a few berries off my chin and then I am utterly incoherent.


End file.
